Spin-ster Stories

The Good Old Duck Days

2010-02-09T09:37:00.007-07:00

I have many posts to catch up on, and perhaps tonight is the night when I will finally do that, but what I am about to post for you now is so positively delightful it couldn't wait for one more second. Not one more I tell you.

Now I should preface this by saying, it is probably only delightful to you if your name is Quinn, or was at one time.

Last night I found several old Family Game Night performances from Duck Beach. If you are a reader unfamiliar with QFGN, well, I assure you that you should invite yourself to one immediately. I will also tell you that it involves less "games" and more performances. And I will also tell you that said performances involve ZERO, maybe even sub-zero talent. But plenty of heart. Not a songbird amongst us.

A little context.

The first video clip is my sister Kristin. The task was for each member of the family to write a blog post for my parents who were in Australia so that they could feel like they were with us. My thought was that each person might share a story or an activity they enjoyed. You'll see what matters most to Kristin soon. And whether you get that level of hilarity or not, if you don't laugh along with this video, something is SERIOUSLY wrong with you. I'm not even kidding...you're ill.

The second video is Travis' blog post. The context needed here is that Abram (my brother in law) is called The Sand Warrior at Duck beach for his great horse shoe prowess. A game my brothers were only just introduced to apparently.

The final one combines the skill and wit of both Travis and Kristin with the added bonus of my 1/160 Native American sister in law Lisa. They were supposed to come up with a song about the stuff they liked best at Duck Beach that week. I especially like the clever choreography, the set up, and the, er, politically correct platform.

Making it Personal

2009-12-27T12:28:00.000-07:00

I am reminded of an event back in 1987, when our family van/bus got caught inadvertently in the middle of a small town parade in Hell, Michigan.

My dad joyously shouted out for all the kids to wave to the crowds, acting like we belonged and enjoying the attention. My mom alternated between participating (out of obligation to the cheering crowds) and turning towards my dad, hiding her face and saying, "Oh Bob!"

I now know what that felt like. To be two parts ashamed, and one part secretly delighted.

At the U of M, U of U basketball game we attended Travis became Bob, and I was Delsa. We were seated on the floor, right behind the bench. Above us and to the right was the U of U student section. There was one particularly obnoxious boy wearing Wrangler jeans and a big old buckle, who kept taunting the bench and making comments to us as well.

Travis finally turned on him, and I assume because he was lacking RELEVANT material due to the fact that Michigan was losing, screamed at the kid, "Nice Belt Buckle!"

The kid became enraged and turned his attention fully to Travis. He made a comment about losing and rather than engage in that (again) RELEVANT debate, Travis shouted (while rubbing and jiggling his belly) "blllbbb, bllbb, bllb...you're FAT! and you're UGLY!"

I was shocked, appalled, (laughing) and hiding my face. The kid was on fire. After several heated returns between the two of them about meeting outside after the game and having some sort of a duel, Travis finally sat down.

I hid my face, Jessica hid her face, and Rotolu came marching over, "Hey Trav - I'm with you if you want to meet him outside." Great. Nothing like turning 30 and really, truly maturing.

blllbb, bllllb, blllb...You're Fat. Who's the idiot from idiot heaven now?

Idiot Heaven

2009-12-26T12:20:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I flew out to Utah with Rotolu and Ryan to see Michigan play the U of U.

It was FREEZING and there was snow and ice all over the place. As Jessica and were clutching each other and trying not to fall as we ran toward the stadium we passed a 3 foot hill to the right side of the sidewalk, facing a busy road.

There was one kid about 7 years old at the top of the hill, and two other kids at the bottom of the hill. The one at the top of the hill cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled down at the other two something that was odd enough to be said by any kid across the country, but with a definite Utah twist...

"HEY! Hey guys!!"

He goes running down the ice hill at top speed toward the road still screaming, but now with their attention:

"I'm an idiot! From idiot heaven!"

He was so delighted as he did this, and frankly so was I. From that point on, anytime I came in Travis and Jessica's house I announced myself by yelling "Hey guys! It's me! An idiot from idiot heaven!"

I for one am glad to learn that there are different kinds of heaven, and hope that I am not IN idiot heaven, but that I for sure have visiting privileges.

Viva Las Vegas!

2009-11-08T14:29:00.004-07:00

I am LONG overdue on posting here. Since a I have a few holiday days free of work, I thought I'd take some time to catch up.

First, Vegas.

I was thrilled to re-connect with the 3 roomates I lived with...I hate to say this...20 years ago. Sigh.

It's hard to imagine that much time passing, and it's even harder to hear stuff come out of my mouth that I used to hear come out of OLD people's mouths when I was a spry 20 year old. Things like "Can you believe how young we looked?" and "When did they start letting high schoolers in to clubs" and of course, "I think I might need a hip replacement."

So yeah, we're old. BUT, the good news is we all still look exactly the same. And we all still act exactly the same. I knew this was true when Merr and Heather were on their way to pick me up at the airport and after arriving, turned around and went back to the hotel without taking me.

Apparently, Becky text messaged them and told them she was at the hotel. Heather for some reason thought Becky was me (not sure why since NAMES come with text messages) and told Merr to turn around. So when I called them and said "I'm here!" They answered, "We know, we're almost back to the hotel." It took about 10 minutes of talking to explain to them who I was, where I was located and for me to understand how they got me confused with Becky. I still don't.

Anyway, it was all good fun and great to stroll down memory lane looking at Heather's old pictures of us. I discovered I used to wear clothes that could have fit 3 people in them, and was reminded of boys I hadn't thought of for ages. Boys who could have prevented this spinster from her current status...and thankfully didn't.

We did hit the nightclubs and party like rock stars, or at least like the real housewives of New Jersey. The Palace and Ivy Tower moves were back in full-effect. And no doubt fully admired. Bless you Facebook for another sweet reunion.

If I only had a brain

2009-11-01T20:12:00.003-07:00

Last weekend I was in Lancaster, PA visiting my friends the Baird. I didn't realize until too late that I had packed everything I needed for the trip except my brain. As you might imagine forgetting your brain can lead to some unpredictable events.

Let me share two of my favorites.

After trick or treating with the kids, I was following Sara back to her house. We decided we should go through the Sonic drive through because we were both famished. My car was first, so I placed my order, pulled around, paid for my food, and got my food. Check, check, check. Of course all of this could be considered brain-optional sort of activity so no big panic.

After I got my bag of food I was thinking about how I had to wait for Sara to get hers. I had already made the cashier-lady think I was a little crazy when I pulled around and she told me the price, and I responded with a very serious look, "Oh, you mean you expect money for this food?" HA! HA! HA! One of us thoroughly enjoyed the joke. It wasn't her.

Anyway, I'm sitting in the car, bag in hand, thinking about how I have to wait for Sara so it seemed only natural to start eating. I pulled out an onion ring and started munching happily away. I was perfectly comfortable and thoroughly enjoying myself when I glanced up at the window and noticed the cashier lady giving me a strange look. I smiled at her, waved and even offered her an onion ring. She shook her head, signaled at me to roll down my window and as I did it suddenly dawned on me.

OH. Sara can't get her food until I move out of the space by the window. They don't want me to sit here and eat. Even if I share. Yeah. That wait could have been a very long wait if the cashier lady was a little more accommodating and less confrontational.

It doesn't end there.

The next morning I went out to my car to run to the grocery store when I realized I had forgotten my wallet. I stopped to talk to the neighbor lady who was at her car for a minute. When we finished I turned and ran up to the patio door and opened it.

You can imagine my surprise when I stepped in to the kitchen, shut the door and was face to face with a GIGANTIC man in his boxers. That I didn't recognize.

The funny part is that it didn't really startle me. And I didn't panic or run out. I knew the Bairds were well known for just walking around in their undies, so I was just looking at him trying to puzzle out which Baird this was, and how come I didn't notice him at Chris' house last night in those really large, blue underdrawers.

He was not as calm. He turned on me with a glower and said, "I don't think you belong here."

Rude. I belong everywhere. Recognize.

I raised an eyebrow and calmly replied, "You may be right." Turned. Walked out the patio and saw his wife staring at me from by her car. I realized Chris lived next door. To her I said, "Hey, thanks for the heads up on that one." She just shook her head.

I dunno. I'm pretty sure if I had brought my brain these things wouldn't have happened, but there is another theory circulating that even with a brain people (Delsa) can do things that might simply appear brainless and I may be experiencing a bad case of genetics. Totally NOT my theory mom.

The last event which I would like to think was done without my brain was betting against Chris' dad on the Michigan/ Penn State game. I lost (well Michigan did) and I was forced to don this lovely shirt which Chris' dad gleefully bought for me. If PSU had lost, this life size Joe Paterno figure which stays all season in their front window would have had to wear a Michigan shirt. Ah well...perhaps next year.

Office Rules

2009-10-14T06:54:00.002-06:00

Yesterday I was walking along the bottom floor of my office and I passed our newest intern. Being a friendly type of person I said Hello. As I walked by. Not stopping.

He took this as an opening for a conversation and replied to my back, "Hi. How are you?"

OK, so now there's a question and you can't continue on. I slowed my pace, looked over my shoulder and gave the requisite, "I'm fine, how are you?" Not caring of course, but feeling obligated on my way to an important task.

I thought we were done now and kept moving. No. He pressed on saying in a louder voice so he could be sure I heard him as I was putting distance between us, "I'm not that well."

Great. You can't leave THAT alone! Doesn't he know the rules?? The answer is "Good."

"Really?" I shouted back continuing to walk (though more slowly) "What's wrong?"

"Oh, well I have all these canker sores all over my mouth and they really hurt."

At this point he's speaking over about 6 cubicles to where I'm standing some distance from him and sharing the information with just about the whole floor. I'm stumped because now I'm not sure whether to laugh, express sympathy, try to protect him from the scorn of all the eavesdroppers or keep moving.

I seriously have NO idea what you say to someone in this situation because no office acquaintance has ever told me about their mouth sores before, so I pause, look at him and say in my most sincere voice, "That must be quite terrible for you, but at least it you can still talk without too much pain so you can share this burden with others."

No. I didn't. But I thought it, and instead just gave a polite nod, told him I hoped they healed quickly and ran away.

To somewhere that I could laugh alone--the bathroom. Canker Sores!!!

Yoga..Omniscient

2009-09-18T14:14:00.002-06:00

Do you ever get the feeling that with all this "virtual" technology and second life stuff that artificial intelligence may be a little more intelligent than we think?

This has been a rough emotional week for me (and Alex now that I know you're reading I'm sorry to say this, but..) because I have been experiencing a little something called Pre-Menstrual Syndrome.

In an effort to combat this, I try to do uplifting things like exercise. Or eat as much chocolate and salt as possible in one sitting.

Anyway, this morning I decided to pull out a new Yoga DVD and give it a whirl. I was about 10 minutes in, and in a rather awkward position very similar to the one above, when the TV yoga lady started talking in an oh-so-soothing voice about how we as women need to center and find peace. She took a breath while I pondered on how she knew I was a woman, and how these cramps were certainly not bring me peace when she continued on to say...

"It is particularly important during the menstrual cycle to rest and connect with our intuition."

WHAT???

How'd she know? And let's say she didn't know, although all signs point to yes, is that not an odd thing to say on a yoga DVD? I mean I'm no expert on yoga (Trust me) but in the few classes I've been to my menstrual cycle has never been mentioned before.

I was so wierded out, I was forced to turn off the TV before she started telling me what was going on with my romantic life and when I would die. My flexibility and peace of mind did not improve today.

I feel sorry for you

2009-09-18T14:05:00.003-06:00

Yes, you. The one reading this blog...if anyone still is.

I feel sorry for you, because so many funny, interesting and slightly twisted things have happened in my life over the last two months and you didn't get to hear them.

You have really missed out. I'm just glad I still got to enjoy them so all's not completely lost.

So, I shall attempt once again to get back on the train and share a little piece of me...with you. Let's start with a discovery I made yesterday that prompted me to get back on the train. One of my co-workers and friends, Allison Lazenby had the following conversation with me:

Allison: You haven't written on your blog since the end of July.
Me: True. I apologize.
Allison: My son Alex was looking at his favorite bookmarks and he said, "Mummy (they're Brittish, it's not weird) Shauri hasn't written on her blog since the end of July."

Now if I had known had such amazing fans as Alex, I would certainly have never let this blog thing slide, so Alex--this one's for you. Sending out a HUGE thank you to one of my biggest fans, by posting your lovely picture here and letting everyone know what a fantastic...bloke...you are. (Alex is the very handsome fella with the clenched fist on the left side...Alex, why so angry? Is it the hay bale?)

I would appreciate it though Alex, if you would please make a comment once in a while so I know you're out there and that you still care.

Cheers!

Driving to Duck

2009-07-31T20:22:00.006-06:00

I am remiss. I am back.

Let me tell you a story you're all familiar with. It's an oldie, but goodie and it's called, "Family Vacation." You've all done it, you all know what it means. And you all know what happens. In fact, I went to my doctor two days before I left and he asked what I was doing the coming weekend. Here's how our conversation went:

Me: I'm leaving on Saturday for a family vacation. Everyone's flying in.
Doc: Ohhhh....this is when everyone regresses back to their most annoying teenage self.
Me: Actually we intentionally never progressed to make the transition easier.

Point is, he got it. Say family vacation and everyone gets it. Whatever.

Mom, Dad, me, Kristin and her 2 year old daughter Aviva all flew together to Norfolk, VA where we then collected a rental mini-van and began our hour and a half drive to the beach.

About 30 minutes in we realized that the windshield wipers had been running for a while.

"Dad? You wanna turn off the windshield wipers?"

Turns out he did. He just couldn't. Everyone in the car tried to get them off to no avail. OK, fine.

Next thing we noticed was that it was getting steadily warmer. And by warmer I mean SCALDING HOT. Tempers were rising and sweat was running. Voices started getting louder as we shouted for dad to roll down the windows.

Nope. No dice. The electrical system was down and we couldn't get windows down. At that point we started talking about how we were going to die (oh and by the way we're in bumper to bumper traffic and not moving AT ALL) in this heat box. Aviva meanwhile is passed out asleep, probably unconscious.

I tried to push open the back windows that didn't seem to be operated by electricity, but I couldn't get 'em. Kristin came busting back over me and shoved them open.

Shauri: "Wow, you're strong. You'd definitely live in a survival of the fittest situation."

Kristin: (scoffing) "Well I know I'd beat you."

Ouch. True, but ouch.

I won't tell the whole story, but I will say that there was a lot of conversation with Budget rent a car about solutions, a lot of anger and sweat and finally when Aviva woke up about an hour of screaming. I repeat, screaming. Kristin told us the only solution was to sing the farmer in the dell, which I swear we did going through every single animal that ever existed AND THEN my mom started going through the first ones again.

It was a long and painful journey, but not surprisingly, these horrible (in the moment) moments, are the ones that live on as our favorite stories to recount. All I can say is, wait until you hear about the return trip.

The Difference Between Men and Women

2009-07-21T19:56:00.006-06:00

I was on facebook a couple of days ago and I saw a guy-friend (sorry Kev-- had to post your pic to make a point) had posted a picture of himself holding his cute little nephew. His nephew looked just like him and was all kinds of adorable. And did I mention he was HOLDING the baby? Big deal, right? Wrong.

Underneath this picture several girls had commented. Most of them were in the same vein as this first comment:

"Have. Mercy. Is THAT what our boys are gonna look like?? Just WATCH how not mad I'll be."

I have to admit, I secretly thought her comment was kind of clever and cute...yeah...sorry. But anyway, the point is that the first thought that came to her mind was this: Cute boy holding cute boy. We could make cute babies together.
(I have to admit my first thought was, why do they both have that shark haircut? Yeah, I'm single.)

So I thought about this.

And here's what I think. If any guy saw a picture of a girl holding a little baby and looking all cuddly with it, what would HE think? I'll tell you.

"RUN!!!"

Because he would think, that girl is baby crazy. She must want to get married and tie me down and make me have kids right away. FEAR.

And here's the thing. He's right. Cause look at that girl's comment. But why OH why...do we think so differently?

The difference between men and women: Babies.

The Angry Skies

2009-07-10T09:46:00.009-06:00

For those of you who have followed my blog for a while, you'll remember a couple of experiences I had with Northwest Airlines trying to get to Australia. 7 layovers ring any bells? No customer service? Cancelling a flight and not re-booking? Yeah--anger...

Gina Valenti recently sent me a link to the perfect response to a bad encounter with our not so friendly skies. The target of this video is United Airlines, but I think it applies to all the major carriers. It may possibly be the place where customer service is at it's all time worst.

I now want to write my own music video about my experience. I wish I could sing. Or write music. And that I had 3 muchachos to help.

Anyway, check it out. Pretty funny. And remember, don't make musicians angry.

VIDEO HERE

And then to be fair (and take another small jab at United) check out what REAL customer service looks like courtesy of Southwest Airlines. Bravo, SWA, Bravo.

VIDEO HERE

The Terrifying Elephant Puppet

2009-07-05T19:42:00.004-06:00

This is a little bit funny. At the time it was a whole heck of a lot of funny, but I'm not sure my writing can do it justice.

A few posts ago you may have read about my niece's strong response to puppets. "Terrifying." Apparently this all came about from an episode of Hannah Montana in which a terrifying puppet chased people around. Or something like that.

I have an elephant puppet that I got in Bali. It's got a wooden head, and I will admit that it times it does look like it's eyes are glowing red.

Keely asked to see my puppet and when I showed it to her, I kid you not, I have NEVER seen a kid run so fast in my life. She flew up the stairs, and I gave valiant chase, but had no hope of catching her. I was also laughing hysterically at her response. Not because I'm mean, but simply because I have never seen that unnatural fear-associated strength in anyone except myself when I literally picked up the girl in front of me at a haunted house and hurled her across the bridge so i could get out of the way of the chainsaw-wielding psycho chasing me. Deep breath.

Anyway, I followed her up the stairs with the puppet, and couldn't find her. The door to our mudroom was closed and Kristin said she went running in there. I opened the door thinking she had gone out to the garage. I called her name and heard a muffled response.

She was in the pantry with the door closed. I told her to come out and she replied "Do you still have the puppet?" I did. I told her, "No." She said, "I think you're tricking me." She held the door handle tight and only allowed Max to wriggle in with her for protection.

For the life of me, I can't figure out why it would be better to lock yourself in a dark closet alone when you're scared, but to each her own.

She did eventually conquer her fear of this puppet and now asks for it regularly. I asked her to pose with it and show the camera how it made her feel. I think we have a pretty accurate re-enactment.

Max was never scared, but did want to try to be. Not sure he has a career in acting like his cousin.

The Match.com mailbag

2009-07-02T21:36:00.004-06:00

You may or may not remember the "Match.com experiment" I started last year with the intention of gathering good stories to entertain you people with. It hasn't gotten much airtime lately because I ignore it about 99.9% of the time, and grew tired of meeting these people. True, I only met 3, but you may remember some of the stories associated with them. Like the guy who walked me around the block for a date. And then thought we had a great time. Right...

So, while I'm not here to tell you that I decided to get back on the horse simply to keep you, the reader, entertained, I can tell you that some of the emails are plenty entertaining without me even needing to meet them in person. And I figured the least I could do was share the wealth. (Micah complained that I never share my awesome "dating" stories anymore. I hope this is close enough for you.)

Allow me to share one of my favorite characters from this week's Match.com mailbag.

First, let me tell you his username: Moneyman. Now I realize this could mean a number of things, much like the Seinfeld episode I watched with Abram last night about Kramer and the "A**man" license plate. Seinfeld thought it meant the guy looked for a certain, er, physical trait in his women, Kramer figured the guy was a proctologist. As usual, Kramer was as wise as he is anti-semitic. (Sorry, couldn't resist.) A**man was a doctor. Point being, moneyman can only go one of two ways. Either the guy wants you to know he makes a butt-load of money (lame) OR he works for the US treasury.

Turns out it's the first. This was the body of his message:

I have read your profile and we are extremely compatible. I am a very responsible person, trustworthy, funny, affectionate, great lover, and extremely optimistic person. I am a professional businessman who owns my own companies and am looking for a soul mate to spend and share my life with and be a part of my empire I have built. I am a little older but have a lot to offer such as; nice house on golf course, many trips throughout the world each year, great lifestyle, and a very loving and honest person. Since i am not on this service much please call me any night before 1am at 616 -xxx-xxxx. Look forward to talking to you. Steve

First. "Great lover?" Really? Do you believe someone who has to advertise it? And is it something I want you to tell me in a random first email? Maybe.

Second. "be a part of my EMPIRE I have built?" Is he Darth Vader? Cause that's the only emperor I know who can legitimately claim he built an empire. And my niece and nephew will fully back that up. I have always wanted to be an empress...but c'mon.

Third. Is this a resume? I love the checklist of things he has to offer. Just throw in "a reasonable salary and great medical benefits" with the great lifestyle and trips throughout the world, and I might sign up.

Finally. Call me before 1am any night? Is this a 1-900 phone service?

I don't know people. There's some nuts out there. I have some girlfriends who recently bought in to the current dating guru who says to "approach dating like a job" and have been networking their little hearts out for referrals, and spending x amount of time a day on online dating sites to increase their number of contacts and chances for marriage, and I'll say it's been working for them. Maybe this resume style formatting is the new (and hopefully final) frontier. They seem to be having good luck--maybe moneybags will find the right gal too. One who wants to share in his empire and travel with him through galaxies on the Deathstar. Me? Not so much.

A Step Back in Time

2009-06-29T22:04:00.007-06:00

This past weekend I moseyed (is that how you spell it??) my way on over to Lancaster county in Pennsylvania to visit my old friends the Bairds. This past December we were reunited (thank you Facebook - ultimate people connector!) while I was shooting a film for Hampton. Chris and I were best friends from my freshman year and had lost touch about 13 years ago.

I can't even express my joy at being reunited with the entire family. I also knew Chris' brother Dave pretty well, and his sister Brooke, and had spent a week with the Baird family at the end of our freshman year when we (Merrilee and I) went to send Chris off on his mission.

Merrilee recently reminded me of a funny story from that trip. Chris is infamous for having no concept of time or concerns about punctuality. He's an artist folks - you know how THEY are. Anyway, he took Merr and I to explore some local waterfalls, and let it be said we had a great time. However, when we returned to his house, looking like drowned rats, we discovered his farewell party had kicked off an hour before we arrived. You can imagine his mom's pleasure at our arrival.

The funny part of the story was that his mom blamed poor, hapless Merrilee for our lateness. She told everyone, "Chris had to take them to the waterfall because Merr is from Arizona and so she doesn't ever get to see water." Talk about thinking on your feet!

Some of my favorite moments on this trip to the Baird clan:

1. I stayed in the Ephrata Hampton Inn & Suites where we had filmed in December and was THRILLED to reconnect with this team. (You can see the documentary we did on them here.) It is unequivocally, the BEST hotel you can ever stay in. Amazing service, amazing people - LOVE them. I was pleasantly surprised to arrive to a sign welcoming me as "Guest of the Day." That's no joke people.

2. On Saturday night, I told the Bairds (Chris' parents) that I wanted to meet them to go to church because Chris had no ability to be on time. There was a lot of chatter about this and how he was late and I was punctual. So the next day, when I suddenly found myself a mile or two from their house and the center of an Amish parade you can imagine my chagrin at realizing I would arrive 10 minutes late. I took these pictures to prove to them that the only thing that could keep me from arriving on time was 5 buggies in front and two in back and no passing lane.

3. Loved just sharing stories about the old days and the new days and feeling like no time had passed. Chris' dad shared some stories about his current wrestle with cancer and how it really changes your focus and where you place importance. He shared a story about the power of prayer in one man's battle with cancer and everyone in the family seemed to be appreciating each moment a little more. I came to town to take some photos of the family and capture some of these moments and felt inspired and touched when I left.

I feel pretty blessed to have come in contact with so many wonderful people over all the years of my life. I'm not great at staying in touch, but maybe that's cause I love all the "reunited and it feels so nice" moments. Whatever the case, I'm excited to finally be reunited with my own folks who come home on Monday--AT LAST.

Some favorite Pics from the Weekend

2009-06-21T20:13:00.005-06:00

Today I shot a few pics of my Niece Keely, and nephew, Ben before we went to church. Neither was what I would call "cooperative", but there were a few smiles when candy was fished out of pockets. I love summer. I'm by-passing Silent Spinster for these.

Respectable Wait Time

2009-06-21T18:22:00.002-06:00

A Question:

How long should you wait to date a guy after he gets out of a relationship? A year? Two years? 2 weeks? The next day?

I ask because I seem to always stumble on the ones who are fresh out. Or sometimes even a year out and it just seems like they're still fresh out. And I have to believe they are NOT really available to me. That I'm clearly being set up for rebound.

And I don't mind hearing their stories about the past relationship, cause frankly I'm curious too, BUT I DO mind hearing the stories twice and three times, or ONLY hearing their stories. Yes, this I mind.

BUT, if you wait too long, well someone else can slide right in when they're good to go and you miss your window. OR you hear the stories about the couple that met right after the breakup and got married 4 months later. Seriously.

So I ask, how long do you wait?

A Nephew in Need

2009-06-21T18:12:00.004-06:00

I am a sucker for my nieces and nephews. Friday night I was planning to go with Kristin and Abram to the movies. Lisa and Shawn were watching their kids for 24 hours, and I had just left the house where Max was in a terrible state of distress. I had offered to hold him and had promptly been hissed and screamed at. Apparently the devil in side had full possession at that moment.

As I got about a half mile away from the house, I got a phone call from Shawn. He said Max wanted to talk to me. In a sobbing and heart-rending voice Max said,

"I want you to come back Aunt Shauri. I want special time with you. Please I want special time."

It was much more tragic than I can ever really do justice here and Max has NEVER wanted special time with me. I was torn. I REALLY wanted to see this movie, and had been super excited to go.

BUT.

My little tiny, helpless nephew needed me to calm his little heart and help make him happy Max again. It's impossible to not go to a crying child. Which is why I'm an aunt and not a parent so I have no discipline responsibilities. Just hugging ones. And reading ones. And feeding candy in a constant stream ones.

I'm glad I gave up the movie for my little sad buddy who snuggled on my lap while I read him books and put his little gulps to rest.

Besides, Shawn let Lisa go with me later that night, so it was really a win/win.

Puppets Are Scary

2009-06-21T18:04:00.003-06:00

Yesterday I was riding home from a special cupcake trip with Keely and Max, which it should be noted was not the success I anticipated as they both hated the fluffy frosting, ate them from the bottom up and proceeded to smear the frosting all over clothes, face and hair followed by a full bottle of chocolate milk being spilled on the floor. And yes, we were the only customers in the store, so we were noticed.

Anyway, as I was saying. We were riding home when Keely told me she was excited to see what Grandma and Grandpa brought her from Australia when they came home. She said she hoped it wasn't a puppet. This began a small debate between us as we discussed why she would like dolls then because aren't they the same as a puppet?

Turns out they're not. Puppets are much more boring. Why remains unclear.

In my efforts to convince her that puppets were actually far more entertaining than dolls the conversation continued as follows:

Me: Do you know what a Marionette is?
Keely: No.
Me: It's a puppet with strings so you can move it's hands and legs, and it can wave at you.

Long pause.

Keely: (in monotone) Terrifying.

Upon further reflection I believe she is right. Puppets are scarier. Unless your doll is a clown or looks like Chucky.

Another one bites the dust

2009-06-16T20:09:00.005-06:00

I don't know if all of you know this little tidbit, but it rains wherever I go. So if you're looking to stop a drought, your best option is to pitch in some cash for a plane ticket and send me packing.

I have made it rain for days in desert landscapes that have never seen rain. Like Australia in the outback. I'm a walking water miracle. Case in point, I just went to Utah. Also a desert. Forecast? Rain for 4 straight days.

Which made it very difficult to find time between the rain showers to take photos of Travis and his soon to be fiance. You can see some of the shots on silentspinsterstories.blogspot.com.

One of my favorite moments during the shoot was when Travis wanted to stage a picture of him jumping off the wall and Jessica holding on to his legs. It was totally staged, but while Jessica was pulling his legs she cried out, "Travis, don't jump!" And she was serious.

Welcome to the family Delsa junior. We love you already.

This is another shot we took. Travis titled it "Guess who's getting married..."

I suppose I should be upset and bitter that there is now only myself and my youngest brother left as the single-tons in the family. Oddly, I'm not. I figure, if Travis can make it happen, anyone can. And after all, aren't I anyone?

Seriously people. It's a moment of rejoicing. A new baby is on the way via Kristin, a new in-law via Travis, and I am ushering in a brand new bushel of wrinkles. I guess we're all contributing!

Happy Engagement little brother. I love my newest in-law.

A Card For Jessica

2009-06-07T07:38:00.004-06:00

First let me say that my spinster status is secure if I never leave Michigan. I have not had a date or spent time alone with an available man in 4 months. Unless you count my trip to Paris with Joel, but since I paid him for his services, it would more appropriately fall under the category of professional escort. And considering that nothing happened, a poor one at that. Good thing I learned some photography skillz. Yeah - no dates.

Since I have no dates, I am always available to babysit for my sister and brother. Lucky them. On Friday I babysat for Shawn and Lisa. Keely (their 5 year old) and I decided to make a card for Jessica - Travis' girlfriend.

After she drew a lovely Bride and groom, I asked her what message she wanted me to write to Jessica on the card. This is what she came up with:

"Jessica,
I hope you have a good time being our aunt. I hope you don't feel left out at any time. Ever.
From, Keely"

An interesting and thoughtful message. I wonder if she feels left out a lot or if she just inherently understands the gauntlet we make all potential family run through before acceptance is assured?

Crafty Spam

2009-05-31T19:17:00.003-06:00

Every night I get an email message from "Junk Mail" with all the spam emails it snared in it's crafty little net, allowing me to see if any were mistakenly held up.

Several funny situations have arisen including a work email that had the words "Card Penetration" in it that went straight to junk mail. That's not the funny part. We later discoverd it didn't get filtered for the word penetration, but the word "savings." ??? What??? Give us your porn mail, we just don't want anyone selling us crap. That's our job.

Moving on, one thing I've noticed is how crafty this "spam" guy is. (And yes, I do know that spam is male.) Spam has picked up on my own email address, and sends me stuff from me. I assume "spam" believes that if it's from myself, I will instantly trust the sender and just accept my senility. Not a bad gamble considering my memory these days. But you lose spam--I'm not all gone yet.

I have ignored approximately 36 emails to me thus far.

I had to crack up today when I scanned the junk mail messages and saw that I, squinn@..., had written the following subject to myself, "You A##hole, answer."

Well, I knew right away that I would never call myself that name. But it did crack me up that I had so obviously gotten under the skin of this spam character to the point where it was trying a new fear tactic on me and resorting to calling me names.

I'm strangely excited to see what my nemesis will try next. Game on spammy, game on.

Lift

2009-05-19T18:46:00.002-06:00

Time to do a little bragging on my brother, Mr. Ryan Quinn. He has just published his FIRST book. If any of you have tried to write a book--well, it's hard people. I'll throw some props dad's way as well since I believe he is co-author, but this is old hat to him and Ryan invested some ridiculous amounts of blood, sweat and tears. So...

BRAVO, Ryan. Standing O for you. I feel more proud of you than my pick for tonight's American Idol title (wait for it) Kris Allen. Sorry had to be done.

At any rate, I have read the manuscript for this book and trust me, it is fantastic. This book is a good read for anyone who wants to be a positive influence, whether you are a parent who is concerned about the influence you have on your children, a manager who is trying to lead employees (or an employee trying to influence your manager), a teacher trying to educate students, a coach training athletes, a concerned friend, a philanthropist or activist, or in my case a single woman worried about how to have a positive influence on men. I kid, but all the rest is true.

Click here to see (and order) the book on Amazon--"Lift".

Buy it, share it, love it and be up"lift"ed.

UK and The Frenchies

2009-05-16T11:15:00.014-06:00

A couple mis-adventures in Europe.
The first was when I arrived in Machester after about 12 hours of travel (layover in Amsterdam) and got off the plane looking for my "driver." No Shauri sign to be seen. Turns out the message he got was that my plane was arriving at 10am, so he came and I wasn't there so he left. I actually arrived at 12. He told me to sit tight and wait for him to come back..he was an hour away. This is all fine except for when you are totally exhausted and the only food options in the airport are stale donuts and really bizarre UK sandwiches that include egg and pickles on them no matter what else it is made of.

I should also mention that I only got ahold of my driver after asking 3 people at the airport to show me how to dial the phone number. Simple? No. Not for me.

On this 6 day journey I flew to Manchester, car to Liverpool, plane to Paris, train to Bordeaux, plane to London and back to the states. Several taxis and tube rides in between. I tried every mode of transportation available in Europe...and few went smoothly.

I mentioned in the last post that I was in Paris learning how to be a photographer with professional photog Joel Addams--highly recommend him for anyone in need of a brush up or a get me started lesson.

Basically he is a slave driver who tried (I emphasize tried) to get me going by 6:30am both days and wrapped us up around 11pm. In between we covered every inch of Paris possible and he taught me the finer points of how to turn off my "auto" function for good.

Here are some photos from our journey together:

Our time together ended Saturday night, and that's where my travel mishaps picked up again. Somehow, someway we ended up running late for the train station and not only were we late, but I hadn't printed out my online receipt to get my ticket.

SOOO..once we got there the nice french lady at the ticket booth said she'd look up my reservation by my credit card and name...no dice. I had 10 minutes at this point to get to my train gate and board so I had no other choice but to (pause for dramatic effect) buy another ticket. Sigh.

But not too much time to sigh, we got it in hand and RAN. Ran because my new ticket was in steerage and so my train car was practically the VERY-LAST-ONE. Breathlessly I jumped aboard just as it was about to pull out.

Au Revoir Paris!

Next stop was to see Maria and Desmond who are a bit outside of lovely Bordeaux. I can't even describe how happy I was to see them. Especially because when I was getting off the train I asked all the Frenchies if this was Libourne (my stop) and no one understood a word I was saying. So I stood in the dark on the platform looking around for a familiar face, or even a sign and then...as if like an angel from heaven who should pop around the corner but Twizzle. Aka, Desmond the delightful.

Followed shortly thereafter by Maria the Magnificent.

Two of my favorite people in the world. Or at least in France. For sure in France.

I will tell you that I have never seen a more beautiful place to call home in my life than their petit chateau. And by petit I mean ginormous.

Their house, their property, their villa all made me feel like I had just stepped on to the set of Pride and Prejudice. (And believe me, I kept hoping Mr. Darcy would appear, but this was the closest...)

I LOVED our morning trip down to the dock to see a village boat race...

Our trip to get french bread and croissants, and you'll note their house is listed on the street sign...

and then our trips to the most quaint little town in the WORLD and of course Bordeaux for dinner.

I got to sleep in my own WING of the house...hello. AND they served me bread, cheese and chocolate to my heart's content.

They were the best hosts ever and the best part was all the laughs and quality time. It was fantastique!

Finally, back to London. Where I had a few hours that night to see a couple big sights with every Rootster's favorite (if barely remembered and past fun award winner) Mark...

and to have dinner with two of my new lovely goddess friends from my Bali surf adventure trip.

All in all...it was a perfect dream - and in terms of my jetlag I sometimes think that's what it was.

One minor sidebar. On the flight home, this man who was sitting kitty-corner from me decided to come over pre-flight and literally stand in front of my seat between me and the other seat and make inane jokes about the socks I was wearing.

I gave him the requisite polite laughs and only mildly mocked him and then thought that would be it. BUT, no. The whole 8 hour flight I would see him out of the corner of my eye, twisting his body and staring at me trying to make eye contact. It was hard work pretending I never saw him, believe me.

Would have been great if it was Mr. Darcy, but he was much closer to Mr. Collins.

And thus ends my lovely European dream.

Joel vs. the Universe

2009-05-14T19:55:00.002-06:00

If you haven’t read the Alchemist, allow me to sum up: The Universe conspires in your favor if you listen and read the signs. If you do…you find your treasure, and sometimes it’s where you least expect it.

Me believe-ee.

For example. I wanted to learn the finer points of photography, but didn’t want to take a class. I thought it would be cool to just spend a solid day or two of time with a professional who completely focused on me and my learning gaps (or canyons if you’re so inclined) and got me up to speed quickly.

I randomly found a guy who has amazing work (Joel's Website) through a friend’s facebook profile picture. She pointed me to his website, I asked if he would be open to a couple days intensive personal instruction and he said…yes. And how about in Paris?

I thought umm, yes. But having just returned from Bali didn’t know how set I was on disposable income for this journey.

As fate (or the universe) would have it, one of my clients, literally the next day, asked if I would go over to the UK to do some testing. Let me just add that this is the first time in 4 years a client has had me go international. (are you buying the universe thingy yet?)

Joel agreed to meet me on the weekend after my test group in Paris where we spent about 36 straight hours of him larnin’ me how to shoot.

This my friends is following the signs.

But it gets more interesting…and sad. Let me tell you how my good, new friend Joel scoffed at the universe, took destiny in his own hands and throw away my future.

We were sitting in front of the Notre Dame getting set up for a shoot when a woman walking by bent down, picked up a gold ring and came up to us. She offered it to me, but I told her it wasn’t mine. In French she kept telling Joel that I should keep it anyway because she was divorced and we were lovely or something like that. I don’t speak the language and let’s just say Joel wasn’t doing a ton of translating word for word.

As I listened to this discussion and cradled the ring in my hands, the lady walked away. (Now I will insert here that this is a classic French scam that we learned about later because she came back asking for a little money.) When she returned Joel said no on the money and with finality took it out of my hand and thrust it back at her and turned away.

I stared, jaw agape, as the woman walked away holding MY gold ring. And then I turned on Joel.

“You. You sign-hater. Do you not REALIZE that the universe was speaking by handing me, maybe even us a ring – the symbol of marriage – and you have yanked it away and laughed in the face of my destiny?? Do you not KNOW how many years I have been waiting for this message from the universe?”

Fine. So we laughed a little, joked a little, whatever whatever. BUT all of this did happen right after he told me that he was afraid of commitment which of course is rather ironic, and… AND, I assure you that I am still convinced he has thrown away what the universe was handing me.

I am happy to say that if I never find my perfect and eternal companion that I now have someone on who’s shoulders I can with satisfaction place the blame. Which is nice since it had been resting on mine until now.

Thank you Joel.

I am a slacker

2009-05-13T20:26:00.002-06:00

I think this may be the longest I have ever gone without a post. And quite frankly there is no excuse. Who am I? Lisa? No...NO!

So here is a little nugget of hope--there are several posts a'comin'. And soon. I am sorting through the cob-webby inner workings of my head to remember all the adventures of the last several weeks and I have tales to tell.

Tales of a destiny stolen from my very hands, A photography workshop in Gay Par-ee, A visit to a comedy team in the south of France, and much, much more.

So consider yourself warned. Or better yet promised. Good stuff coming...keep your ear to the ground and your fingers on the keyboard.

Holla.

Bali - Day 9

2009-04-26T13:00:00.004-06:00

Sadness. My last full day in Bali. And my last surf day. I can’t believe how quickly the time passed and how fantastic the trip was. It met and exceeded all my expectations, and those were pretty high to begin with.

I packed a lot in to the last day: Yoga, surfing, lunch by the pool with the ladies, shopping for the first time in Seminayak (shocking) to get some gifts for the munchkins at home, and then our big farewell Goddess dinner. The time flew by.

Usually when I travel I have a ton of funny stories and embarrassing moments, but I really didn’t have many to share this trip. When I thought about that, and keeping you people entertained, I almost went out and created some, but then I though…nah. Enjoy the first time in your life that you went a whole week without shaming yourself in some unpredictable way. At least that I’m aware of.

The farewell dinner was delicious and touching. I think that we were all really surprised at how quickly we all connected as a group, how much we all had in common, how much fun we had together, and how much we learned from each other. Our grand pooh-bah surf Goddess, Chelsea told us that our group really surprised her by how much we all stuck together, especially since we were her biggest group ever. That she didn’t expect all 15 to troop around everywhere in a herd.

Some of the “goddesses” put together a small awards ceremony where they essentially christened each goddess with a title. Mine was “inspirational goddess.” I’m sure NO ONE is surprised by that. I thought that was really nice, since I was inspired by so many of them, and am not sure what I said or did that was too inspirational. It’s maybe the first time that my title wasn’t “most fun” or “laughs a lot”—I guess that’s what happens when you a.) don’t embarrass yourself all week and b.) You are sober and surrounded by some ladies (one 4’11” Aussie goddess in particular) who’s a crazy fire-cracker that can drink a 300 lb man under the table.

And a hilarious UK goddess,
who in these pictures hadn’t even had a drop of alcohol and….well…you get the picture.

They said come to Bali and find your bliss. I found mine.

Bali - Day 8

2009-04-26T12:32:00.008-06:00

(This is a LONG one. Consider yourself warned.)

Back to surfing—and I couldn’t wait to get back on the board. I’m addicted. The way I feel about surfing, is the way I imagine dad feels about golf. Or felt before he quit for 3 years. The desire to get out and do it every day for hours, and to constantly improve. It’s a sport that you can do brilliantly one day and fail miserably the next. There’s no constant or continual progression—each day is a new challenge. I love the rush of adrenaline and the feeling of popping up on your surfboard and riding the wave in. I’ll hold back all the mushy, spiritual, woman and nature kind of stuff—not sure I’m there yet, but needless to say, I could do this for many, many more days.

I have also figured out why all our male surf coaches became surf coaches. Jumping up on surfboards and popping out of waves causes a lot of swim shorts and bikini tops and bottoms to pop off with surprising (or not) regularity.

After surfing today, I got to make my elephant dream come true. One of the things I really wanted to do in Bali was ride an elephant. After being there a couple of days it didn’t seem like anyone shared my dream, so I was debating whether to go off myself and do it for a half day or just save that dream for another day. I was talking about it yesterday in the pool with Mandanna and she surprised me by saying she would LOVE to go and was super excited about the “elephant dream” too. She also wanted to hug and kiss them and stuff, which I wasn’t sure if you could I do but I made sure to feed that hope. ☺

We hired a driver for a ½ day to take us up to the elephant sanctuary. It was about an hour to 90 minute drive, and we got him for forty dollars. Amazing. When we arrived at the magical elephant spot, we asked our driver to stop so we could take pictures with this sign - which we were probably disproportionally excited about:

After we took every possible angle, we decided it might be even more exciting to actually see the real elephants.

Right as we arrived a torrential downpour occurred, canceling the elephant shows and possibly putting our ride in jeopardy. We figured we’d go in to the reserve and eat some lunch and hopefully watch the storm pass. It was really cool to see this from our table as we ate:

We decided that even if we didn’t get to see the elephant show and had to ride them in the rain, that we were still thrilled we took the journey, because the landscape we passed in the car on the way up showed us what the “real Bali” was like, and took us out of the whole tourist trap areas much more than our trip to Ubud.

We passed rice fields with little huts that are built every so many yards for the workers to lay down and take naps when they are tired (great idea!), and we saw the men and women working in their rice paddies with traditional clothing and pointy cone hats. We saw women and men walking down impossibly narrow roads, risking their lives in what should have been one-way traffic, and wasn’t, with ridiculously large bundles of sticks, or baskets, or clothing, or whole houses on their heads. We saw tiny little shack homes, and people building wood and ceramic sculptures, and gorgeous landscape for miles and miles. It was one of my favorite moments of the trip.

Followed shortly thereafter with another of my favorites. Getting on board a real, live elephant. The rain finally went down to a misty trickle, so we donned our raincoats, grabbed the proffered umbrellas and each boarded an elephant for a walk through the jungle.

IT WAS AWESOME.

I felt like a Queen or a Sheik or whatever royalty might ride and elephant and Mandanna and I had huge smiles plastered from ear to ear as we snapped pictures of each other and found out important facts about elephants, like the fact that Victoria Beckham (aka Posh Spice) had ridden Mandanna’s elephant in 2002.

We tromped through the jungle and saw where the people in that town lived (in the jungle), and other elephants ranging around. It stopped raining and for the grand finale, the Park Ranger (?) took our cameras and took pictures of us frolicking in the water on our elephants and sitting on the elephants knee and doing tricks with the elephants. BTW: we were pretty much the only people in the park at this point—seems it scared away all the other tourists.

We wandered around some more and saw the two new baby elephants (the only ones born in captivity in Bali ever.) and bumped in to the owner of the park who is an Australian transplant who bought ten elephants and built this elephant park and runs the place. He was very interesting, and I bought the documentary about him and the elephants he rescued from death in Sumatra to bring to Bali.

Mandanna and I were on cloud 9 after a “Brilliant Day” (as she says with her awesome Brittish/Australian accent) and I honestly think it was one of the most perfect days I have had in a long, long time. Surfing, Country tour, Riding elephants. Does it get any better?

My surfing Debut

2009-04-25T14:56:00.003-06:00

OK-- a break in posting the Surf Goddess Diary for a post I swore I would never make. My debut video. Basically the camera is way too up close and personal to me in really tight nasty rash guard and probably the nappiest hair you've ever seen (watch out Bob Marley), but hey, I'm a surfer. I can't worry about silly things like appearance when the world is waiting to see what a prodigy I was.

And hey, I was never one to shy away from letting people laugh at or with me. So...enjoy.

Bali - Day 7

2009-04-23T16:40:00.005-06:00

Chelsea planned for us to have a break mid-week from surfing. Apparently it helps you to get some rest, and most people end up having their best day of surfing on Thursday. The plan today was to go up to Ubud to see a different side of the island, do some shopping at the market, and visit Wayan from the book Eat, Pray, Love.

We started out at the Sacred Monkey Forrest. Our yoga goddess, Susan, was our guide today and she terrified most of the ladies up front by telling them to keep moving at all times or a monkey might jump on them. There was a lot of frantic and constant movement after that comment.

I for one, wanted a monkey to jump on me (who doesn’t want a monkey pet to wrap it’s cuddly little legs and arms around you?) which freaked everyone out, although a couple of the women asked me to do it because they “just wanted to see.” I have to say, they are a little scary though when they start screeching at each other and going crazy.

At one point on our tour, the opportunity presented itself. Mondanna and I were standing still listening to a story when a little monkey ran right up next to us on a ledge. Mondanna freaked out and ran away, but I held perfectly still and made eye contact, as if to say, “I dare you to jump on me Mr. big talk. Scurrying along scaring people like you’re really going to jump. Ha. Try it.” Yup, my eyes said all that to the little fiend.

Then, Bam. He made the jump and next thing you know, I got me a monkey on my back. Which was all fine and good, until he clambered up to my shoulder and I turned to look at him and his face was just inches from mine. His eyes were all squinty and mean and his mouth was wide open showing sharp little teeth, and it screeched in my face.

Didn’t like that so much. But then I felt a pinch in my shoulder and it was monkey’s ahoy! Off the varmint. Not so cuddly after all.

After the monkey forest, we went to the market, where you find all your usual silly knick knacks you’ll never use once you get home, but I loaded up on presents for the nieces and nephews, and even found a painting I really liked. After I bought the painting, the artists mom and dad let me take some pics of them. Love ‘em.

They were so cute when I showed them the pics on the digital camera and they wanted a copy, but I tried to explain they didn’t come out of the camera. I said if they gave me an address I would mail them, but not sure either of us understood anything the other was saying. The best part was their son trying to get them to smile for the picture and to sit near each other. You can see how close they got and what their “smiles” look like from picture one to picture two.

Next stop was Wayan. We didn’t get to spend much time with her because she had other appointments, but it was fun to meet her, and see that she talks and acts just as she is portrayed in the book. Lots of talk about “man banana.” And how she can help. Eat, Pray, Love has done this lady a world of business.

I had to include these pictures of Gina, because I got her to pose for a picture and she started shaking her money maker

without realizing that there were men sitting behind her enjoying the show. Once I pointed it out, we got this shot:

Lunch was delicious—one of the best things here are all the fresh fruit shakes and smoothies, and of course I never turn down an opportunity.

After lunch we did more shopping and stumbled on some rice paddies out the back window of one of the stores. It was so interesting to see one up close and juxtaposed against the commerce of the market street.

I love it here. It’s a beautiful place filled with beautiful, constantly smiling people.

Bali - Day 6

2009-04-23T13:53:00.004-06:00

Organic food goodness. Surfing awesomeness. Yoga. Check, check, check. Another day in paradise.

The highlight today was getting picked up after our surf lesson to go to another beach where the “real” surfers surfed. My intention was of course to try to pick up some new techniques, but the others were in it for hot surfer bods. If only they were as committed to the sport as I am. C’mon, hot surfers? Please.

Let me just make a quick mention that it is blisteringly hot and humid here. I pretty much drench all my clothes every day, and not by swimming.

The beach was pretty, and it was cool to see the surfers. They basically hike down these narrow steps that wind all over the place until you end up in this cave at the bottom. Once there the surfers paddle out of the cave on their boards and hit the surf to the beach.

A bunch of us (Sonia- Perth, Elizabeth, Gina, Nicola- UK, Maureen – UK, 3 sisters from Sydney, Chicago and LA, and Rebecca- UK) hot-footed it up to a restaurant to watch the surfers from the relative shade and with French fries and beers clasped in our greedy little fingers. (No worries mum, I had French fries clasped in both hands.)

It was a nice relaxing afternoon followed by a trip to a seafood restaurant where they move the tables right out on the sand of the beach. For those who like seafood, it’s apparently wriggling and fresh right from sea to table. We watched the sun set and enjoyed a lovely evening of food, folks, and fun.

As a sidenote, this beach was where the terrorists dropped a bomb a few years ago. Pretty sad that they could mar such beauty with hatred.

Bali - Day 5

2009-04-23T13:46:00.003-06:00

Eggs, Fresh fruit, Banana-Ginger pancakes, basically I can get very used to the food we’re being served here every day. I want to take Stephania (our “domestic goddess”) home with me, but I’m pretty sure she’s happy in Bali. Besides, I currently have my own domestic goddess (and author of the prominent culinary blog “You Got Served”) who also prepares some pretty tasty dishes on a regular basis, so I can’t complain.

After yoga we had a couple hours before our surf lesson, so Mondanna, Denise (lovely new goddess-friends from Perth and New York City), and I ran off to the spa “Cool” right down the street to get our toes taken care of for about 8 bucks.

It was heavenly. Right after I snapped this picture of Mondanna, she looked up and laughed and said, “you caught me thinking how lovely and perfect this all is.” And yes, it is.

On the way home I was busily snapping pictures of Denise and Mondanna chatting away and somehow we ended up somewhere we’d never seen before. Now let me just say that getting lost on the way home from Cool requires some serious work because you basically stay on the same street all the way home. Apparently we were all so distracted that we decided to turn down some random straight into a neighborhood with a “pack ‘o wild dogs.” I think it’s the same pack that has followed me through Chile, Argentina, and Guatemala. They’re very well-traveled… and fearsome.

The funny thing was as this one dog was yapping at us and basically completely terrifying me, the owner (who was out on the street washing his car) kept sort of half heartedly calling his dog off. The dog clearly sensed the level of energy applied to this task and kept at his intimidation tactics with no sign of backing off. This clearly angered our NYC gal, Denise, and she started yapping to the dog owner much like you might talk to a taxi driver who’s clearly “taking you for a ride.”

“Can you get your dog? Seriously—you better get your dog!”

She scared me, but the owner wasn’t fazed at all so we picked up our pace, with the dog yapping at us, Denise yapping at the owner, and the owner…washing his car. I know the picture above makes her look harmless, but trust me girlfriend can get her Sasha Fierce on. (This is a compliment Denise.)

I guess I haven’t mentioned yoga yet. That’s cause I skipped it the first day, and I wanted to skip it every other day too, but part of my “new learning” for this trip was supposed to be embracing the art of yoga, so I put on my tight clothes and went. It was incredibly challenging for me (I’m pretty sure I was the only one who was literally dripping sweat on to the floor) and it was an hour and a half! I only have the ability to focus on such a slow sport for 30 minutes to an hour tops. At least we didn’t get asked to do any of the moves Abram, Kristin and I saw on the yoga DVD that required supporting your whole body on your elbows with your knees wrapped around your ears. Don’t ask.

Bali - Day 4

2009-04-22T16:07:00.003-06:00

I woke up this morning feeling like it was Christmas and I couldn’t wait to see what Santa had up his sleeve. SURFING! I was afraid it would take me all week to stand up on my board, but I am proud to say I did it on my first try! Probably a bit of dumb luck, and there were plenty of wipe-outs too, but I got up consistently and was hooked from the get-go.

We have one Goddess surf leader – Melinda...

and several local surf guides who are fantastic, friendly and super helpful.

Melinda has a great story. She came to surf in Bali from Australia where she had a high-powered job in fashion and a millionaire ex-boyfriend who wanted to marry her. She fell in love with surfing and with her surf instructor and left everything behind to move to Bali and follow this dream. Her family thought she was insane, but she’s been here for a couple years now and seems really, really happy. Sometimes you need a lot less than you think to be content.

After surfing we all went over to a local spa where we got a 90 minute full body massage, scrub, and moisturizing treatment. It felt utterly luxurious and when it was over there were lots of women who looked like piles of jelly with big, happy grins plastered on. Everything is cheap in Bali, and one of the best cheap deals are all the massages around town that cost 10-20 dollars for 60 minutes. Lots of the ladies, Gina in particular, were not opposed to the idea of a massage a day. Not a bad idea to trade in a stressful project load and 60 hour work week for magic fingers dancing on your body, beach time and sunshine every day.

Bali - Day 3.5

2009-04-22T15:47:00.002-06:00

The shuttle came to pick us up and they asked for “Sari” or “Sorry” Quinn. This was my name for the rest of the trip. Apparently they don’t do well with the Sh sound, and there was nothing awesome about being paged at the surf shop, the hotel, the villa, the restaurant, wherever as “Sorry Quinn.” Thanks Mom and Dad.

I was a bit surprised when we arrived at Villas Serenas because I had pictured it would be larger and more luxurious and beachfront, but it didn’t take long to fall in love with our little home.

In fact, it pretty much happened that night when we all met for the first time. We sat in a circle and introduced ourselves and told about how we had found this retreat. It was interesting to hear almost every single woman tell a very similar story. A story each one no doubt thought was there own, singularly unique experience. Basically it boiled down to: I found it online searching for a getaway because I can’t take life anymore. Overwhelmed by work, Recent divorce or breakup, or some issue that left them in some sort of pain and needing an escape and some peace.

I for one, was touched by all the stories (women were from the US, the UK, Australia and Germany.) and the fact that we do all share such a common human experience. The average age was probably about 32 or 33 and the oldest woman was late 40’s early 50’s, the youngest was 26. Most were in their 30’s. It was great to be with a group of women who were all in the same place in life, mostly single, and all open to new experiences.

I love our little villa, with indoor/outdoor living – we ate all our meals outside – and our little street sort of hidden from the main thoroughfare.

We had a delicious supper, and went to bed early that night---ready for our first big day of surf in the morning!

Bali - Day 3

2009-04-22T15:37:00.002-06:00

This morning we got up at around 4am, stayed in bed until about 5:30, and then decided to walk around the grounds. It was so freaking humid that as soon as I took my lens cap off the whole thing fogged up and I could never quite clear it. This picture was taken through the haze.

The temperature was about 90 degrees with 5 billion percent humidity, but I was happy to take it over the snow I had just left in Michigan. In April. Whatever.

There was a bit of a mini-drama as we discussed where to eat breakfast. I had called the executive lounge the night before to tell them it was Gina’s birthday and to arrange a surprise birthday cake. Elizabeth knew what the plan was, but misunderstood that we had to be IN the lounge to get it. So here I am trying to convince Elizabeth even more than Gina to go to the lounge instead of eating in the restaurant when we were in cahoots with the plan. She kept saying, “I’ll just eat here and you can eat there. We can split up.” Ummm…no. I kept trying to get her to understand that we had to be there to get the cake, without saying anything to give it away in ear shot of Gina, but she thought the cake was coming to our room and our conversation was at an impasse for quite a while. We’ll chalk it all up to jet lag. ☺

At any rate, we did finally get to the lounge---see how beautiful:

And we did finally surprise Gina with her Birthday Cake.

I love Elizabeth’s face of surprise, and Gina and the Server’s faces of delight.

You can’t beat celebrating a birthday in Bali! We headed off to the pool for our first official rays and some R&R before our shuttle to the Goddess Villas came to fetch us that afternoon.

Bali - Day 2

2009-04-22T14:27:00.002-06:00

We finally arrived in Bali. I’m looking forward to teleportation. When we got off the plane and walked towards the exit we were greeted by a few strange sights:

1. Exit signs that warned us we would be killed if we had drugs in our possession. This struck me as a bit harsh, but probably very effective. I was glad I had left all my drugs in Singapore.

2. The last leg out of the airport is a long hall. It feels like more of a gauntlet. As you walk down the hall there is a money-changer (literally) which each step you take. Tiny little rooms, right on top of each other one after another. There had to be at least 20 in about as many yards. Each one proclaiming the best rates ever. I imagine it must be pretty stiff competition and I can’t make sense out of how they could all think it was a smart business plan.

3. As you leave the airport you are again bombarded by a hoard of “taksi” people. This is how they spell and say taxi in Bali. Not sure why. They all want to take you somewhere and swarm you as you walk out. We were jet-lagged, confused by our new money and overwhelmed in general. We agreed to a taksi to our hotel which was about 25-30 minutes from the airport for the low, low price of 90,000 rupiah. This sounds like a fortune, but turns out it’s only 9 bucks. Which you have to agree is quite reasonable for that length of ride.

We had 3 people pulling our bags to the taksi, and one driver. Amazingly helpful these Balinese blokes. We heard you didn’t tip in Bali, so we were quietly debating whether to tip our driver or not when we reached the car. The 3 baggage handlers dropped our bags and walked over with hands extended demanding a tip. This confused us, our money confused us and we floundering-ly handed over 10,000 rupiahs. Which we thought sounded like an awful lot. The guy looked disgusted and said, “This is just cents.” Elizabeth misunderstood and said, “Oh, is it too much?” Uh, no. Another look of disgust and I handed him 100,000 or $10 to be split between them. Honestly though, does it seem right that a 30 minute taksi ride and a tip for carrying our bags across the street should be the same amount?

Arriving at the Conrad was bliss. It was simply gorgeous. It was a bit strange to get stopped at the gate and have the taksi hood and trunk searched before we could get on the property, but we were reminded of the terrorist bombings a few years ago. Apparently it’s standard protocol now which is kind of sad.

We were so happy to be at the hotel, and got there just in time to see some traditional Balinese dancers perform over the balcony. The grounds were amazing, the service was first class and the bed was just what the doctor ordered.

Day 1.5? - Singapore

2009-04-13T01:29:00.003-06:00

(Singapore Airport)

The Singapore airport is probably better than Disneyland. Especially if you are a travel-wearied body like myself. The airport is like a small city that goes just about 24-7 and has a free movie theater, massage chairs for free and massages for 20 dollars, magnificent shopping, a koi and orchid pond, and best of all Pods.

Pods you ask? That's right and not Invasion of the Body Snatcher type pods either. It's a mini-hotel in the airport where you can rent a "pod" or tiny little room by the hour, and for about 5 bucks an hour. We got ourselves a six hour block of a tri-pod (ha, ha. HA!) for around 70 smackers. You can see modeled here the awesome first class pj outfits mentioned in the previous blog. (Well, you will when I post them in a week.) I look like Tim Duncan in this picture, which may strike you as odd, but the Singapore air caused a really strange growth spurt. Midgets all-- I beckon you to sunny Singapore.

Right before we landed I asked our flight attendant what he usually does here. He said, and I quote, "In the daytime I chill out, and in the night time I freak out." Interesting. And perhaps a bit disturbing depending on how he defines "freak out."

We took a 6 hour nap (well 2 after laying awake for 4), and then got up to wander around the airport, munch on some breakfast pizza and enjoyed some lovely (and cheap) massages and manicures. I also had THE best smoothie. EVER. It was fresh squeezed orange juice, tart yoghurt, and ice, and maybe something else but it was OH..yes...delicious. I crave it now.

I think the best discovery in Singapore was the hole in the floor toilets. Gina and I went in to the public restroom, entered our stall and discovered this:

That's right, a hole in the ground which you squat over, trying not to soil your clothing and do your business. I was not comfortable, but it did give me extra incentive to master yoga in Bali for added flexibility on my flight back.

The people here are delightfully friendly. Smiles all the time and friendly, friendly, friendly.

We went in to the city for a few hours before we had to catch our flight and tooled around little India, where we rediscovered the meaning of the word HUMIDITY, and the words Back Sweat, as well as the smell of Incense. It was a veritable feast for the senses. Yuck.

We grew hot sweaty and tired, and after a look at this temple and some little shops headed to cooler ground...

...Raffles Hotel.

It was built by the Brittish founder and it was gorgeous. And cool as in cold. It was like what I imagine old colonial architecture in India looks like. Beautiful. We had a feast of Indian food with some comical waiters who competed for our attention by trying to beat each other at pulling out our chairs and bringing us special treats. They were very entertaining and we were sad to say goodbye to them...and the attention.

And so we returned to the airport and to yet another flight...off to our final adventure. BALI.

Day 1- In Flight

2009-04-13T01:17:00.004-06:00

I'm having major December Dejavu. 12 hours to Tokyo, 6 hours to Singapore and then of course a few more tomorrow to get to Bali.

I have lost all concept of date and time. I'm not complaining because I did upgrade to first which means a constant stream of food from accomodating Malaysian flight attendants who practically do the chewing for you with their marvelous service, and several lovely pairs of slippers and gi-normous black track suit pjs. Oh--and a bottle of perfume. ?? Guess 18 hours of travel doesn't do anyone any favors in the smell department. So yeah, life is good, I just have no concept of where I am in space or time. Guess this is how Sawyer and the ghost-whisperer guy feel all the time. No nose bleeds yet.

Bali: Day -1

2009-04-10T01:03:00.003-06:00

For the past 3 days I've been sick. I'll spare the gruesome details, but simply say that the bathroom is my friend.

I flew to Los Angeles on Tuesday for a meeting with Gina before she, Elizabeth and I left for Bali and our surf goddess adventure. My stomach was still causing trouble that made me a bit concerned about leaving the country for Indonesia with the idea that I might not want to be at the mercy of their not-so-modern medicine. I decided to run in to urgent care and gain peace of mind that all would be well for my adventure.

I waited 2 hours. 2 HOURS. It's a long time, but friends I must tell you...it was worth the wait! The words "The Dr. will see you now" will forever be changed now to surface feelings of both excitement and terror. This Dr., when he finally appeared was straight out of Grey's Anatomy and was certainly in the McDreamy category. And nice. And clever. And adorable in those little green scrubs.

Meet me. Wearing a nasty paper gown gaping at the back to exhibit my, well, let's not even discuss the underwear situation, but let's do talk about hairy wintertime legs, a big, BIG blister on my toe, and a greasy, not so done up face. Oh and the extra special wintertime muffin top hanging over the nasty underthings. And all this prefaces my first statement, "I have a diaharea problem." Sorry, but it had to be said.

In an attempt at recovery (and distraction) I said, "You know, I think we'd be on more equal ground here if you put on one of these paper gowns too." He agreed that was true, but didn't think it would inspire the appropriate level of confidence in his other patients. Touche.

We proceeded to discuss my unfortunate medical condition whilst I tried to camouflage my big old nasty blister by covering my right foot with my left foot. When he told me to lie down, that pose got really awkward. Try laying down gracefully while still covering one foot with the other. It only served the purpose of drawing ALL attention to said nasty blister. And of course with me laying like a pretzel it made examination difficult and he was forced to say, "Uh...can you please spread your legs apart a little." Which in turn made him almost as uncomfortable as me.

He felt my bloated, protruding, gaseous belly which clearly another huge selling point in my favor and then took my temperature and started to move to diagnosis. It was gastro-something or other, and I had a mild fever so to be on the safe side he suggested a....

...no...please..no....

RECTAL EXAM.

ME: Huh? What?

Him: I'll tell you how it works...

ME: uhhh...how...uh (Like I don't know how it works!)

Him: (nervously) I just scrape out a little bit to check for blood, and uh..I'm a doctor...and...

Me: Absolutely not.

Him: It's a safety measure with you leaving the country...

Me: No. Nope, no way.

Him: You know I'm a doctor, right?

Me: Yup. Sticking with no.

It was pretty awkward on both sides, and I've never told a doctor no before, but seriously? Seriously? No. I would rather die a slow painful death in Bali than let him examine my rectal-regions at that point. A girl has to have some dignity...and well, whatever. You get it - no hot man your age and not wearing a wedding ring should ever be allowed to give you a rectal examine on your first encounter. Period.

He gave me drugs. He gave me his card. And from now on, I will NEVER go to a doctor's office w/o taking a shower, covering all nasty blisters, and wearing more appropriate personal attire....no matter how close I am to death. So let it be written, so let it be done.

Some recognition please

2009-03-22T07:32:00.003-06:00

I have an important question: Do you know who invented the microwave?? I bet you don't. Cause I don't, and not that you're not smarter than me, but I'm just sayin' I don't think you do. So here's my point. I bet all of you know who invented airplanes. The Wright brothers, right? Wright. (ha, ha.....ha.)

Anyway, is flying ANY bit more important than the microwave? Do you fly every day? Well how many times a day do you use your microwave? As I was heating up a delicious meal yesterday afternoon in...TWO MINUTES...I suddenly felt a lot of love for that man or woman and it struck me that they deserved some recognition. I mean how much time do we save cooking? Have you ever tried to live even one full day without a microwave? Bet you can't. I can't.

The man's name is Perry Spencer. And Perry Spencer, today I salute you. Bravo for ensuring I can eat when I'm hungry and not 30 minutes later.

While I'm on the subject, I suggest we make March Madness (the first Thursday and Friday) a national holiday. Shawn, my brother, seems to think this sends a bad or wrong message, but I'm telling you productivity at work has GOT to be its lowest on these two days. In fact, here's some quotes from an article I read:

"It's tough to tell how "March Madness" affects workplace productivity. Employment consulting firm Challenger Gray & Christmas has made varying estimates since 2002. Last year, it said that NCAA-watching could cost employers as much as $1.7 billion in wasted time."

Why not just let everyone take it off and save some money? You can have back President's Day, I don't really know what to do with that one anyway.

I thought it was also funny that if you watch it online at work there is a "boss button" you can click to make sure that if your manager walks up the games disappear and a spreadsheet comes up. Here's some stats on that:

"And in reference to the discussion yesterday about productivity and March Madness, there's this: The "Boss Button," which hides the video player with a spreadsheet, was clicked 1.5 million times yesterday compared with 2.5 million times for the whole tournament in 2008."

Sadly, Michigan lost in the second round, but they put up a good fight and I was proud of the way they showed up this year. Next year should be awesome baby as Dick Vitale would say.

Happy March Madness one and all---and please take a minute or two today to stop and think about the man who brought you the microwave.

Married to your Work

2009-03-15T19:19:00.002-06:00

I had an interesting thought about marriage this weekend. And the phrase "You're married to your work." This is always tossed out in a negative context. And I even view it in a negative context....

..BUT...

Here's the interesting thing. If you're not married to anyone or anything else, why not be married to your work? The big hangup whenever I hear it used is that it "won't keep you warm at night."

Well guess what people. I have news for you. I do work at night and on the weekends and even from my sick bed this weekend and what I have discovered is this: When you sleep with your computer it can keep you warm at night. Sometimes even warmer than another body. So I would disagree and say, my career CAN keep me warm at night.

The danger of course is when you do what Ed did and roll over your computer and squash it in half. Luckily he's married to a person too, so he has a backup plan. I must be very cautious not to do the same as I am monogamous.

The Horrid Bouquet Toss

2009-03-09T20:21:00.004-06:00

This weekend I attended the wedding of a good friend and roommate from my time in DC. It was beautiful and after a long, hard road for them it was really touching to see them so happy and at peace with their decision. It made me very happy.

The reception was a different story. I think what I witnessed there is a great metaphor for the spinster's situation at this time of life.

All of you are familiar with the awesome tossing of the bouquet tradition and the throwing of the garter. I'm sure some of you have been the victim of, or witnessed the victimization of the poor girl who is the lone single survivor of her friends--forced to stand alone in the circle while the bouquet is directly thrown to her amidst laughter and not so witty banter. Humiliating? Yes.

I fully expected that to be the case this time, but not so. I think I have now graduated beyond being the last single woman standing to an even worse fate. At this reception we actually had about 20 women giddily grouped, arms outstretched in desperation to catch the bouquet. The tables turned when they called for the single men...there were 3. And one was 13. And another was 60.

As I watched the spectacle, at first I felt pity for that poor gentleman who was not the center of all the hooting and hollering, and then my pity shifted back to it's appropriate focus - me. 20 women. 1 man. You do the math.

Molly: A Lesson in Love

2009-03-07T09:07:00.002-07:00

One last thought about The Bachelor and then I SWEAR it's over.

On Friday, Jason and Molly made their first appearance on Ellen, who grilled them as they deserved to be grilled. I have to admit that I've been heaping all of the blame and disgust on Jason, because I really liked Molly during the show, and well, Jason did make all the poor decisions.

However.

However, on Ellen Molly said something that I was so totally annoyed with, I've been rolling it around in my head for 24 hours. In response to Ellen's question about if Jason did the right thing and how she felt about Melissa, Molly said, "He is standing up for what is best for him. I think if there is any time to be selfish, it's when love is involved."

SERIOUSLY??

Let me play that back. If there is any time to be SELFISH, it's when LOVE is involved? Does that even make sense. I misguidedly thought if there's anytime to be unselfish it's when love is involved. Oh the confusion.

Sorry, but that comment on it's own is enough reason to stay on Team Melissa. I mean try a little unselfishness and see if that helps in the decision making process or longevity of your relationship(s).

Jimmy Tells All

2009-03-03T14:58:00.001-07:00

My good friend Amy has brought some new information to my attention. Apparently Jason gave away some info that Melissa was aware of what was happening before it happened, which suggests at least part of it was staged. You can see this on Jimmy Kimmel:

http://popwatch.ew.com/popwatch/2009/03/bachelor-jason.html

At the very least, you should watch Jimmy skewer him a bit---it's rather hilarious.

Frankly, I still think Molly had no idea, and Melissa's reaction was genuine and that while she knew it was ending she did not know about Jason.

To be fair, Jason did HAVE to do it publicly because he had a contract. But then again, he did make that choice, didn't he?

Victims Of Love

2009-03-03T11:09:00.006-07:00

Well The Bachelor done did it now. Look at all you people clamoring for a blog, and you know who you are posting on fb and sending me emails. Yes you do. Which leads me to believe that the show has FINALLY achieved what it promises every show, every year. We have finally witnessed the MOST DRAMATIC ROSE CEREMONY EVER.

For those of you who somehow found better things to do with your time than witness what Chris (the host) himself called "a historic journey", here's the quick 411. Jason and his chosen woman (Melissa) hit a rough patch during the 6 weeks between wrap and this show. Jason suddenly realizes that all along he REALLY wanted Molly, the woman he cast aside for Melissa. So...in an unprecedented, and apparently historical step for this show, Jason comes on without a studio audience and DUMPS Melissa on live TV. Because he has feelings for Molly. Melissa handles it gracefully, although she did get in one jab that I think we all agreed with, "You're a b$#@tard." Yes, yes he is. HUGE kudos to Melissa for the most graceful exit in Bachelor history. I assure you I would have been inflicting alternating physical and emotional abuse on his sorry, sorry self while shouting, "Show me the tears now you drama queen!!"

Molly joins him next and Jason informs her that he made a mistake (uh-huh, a mistake) and he wishes he had kept her instead of Melissa. Will she take him back? Molly looks properly stunned and thinks it may be the cruelest joke ever played, until she realizes by looking at Jason's pathetic face that it really is in fact serious. Lots of uncomfortable laughter. Uncomfortable silence. And then...she. takes. him. back. Oh, Molly.

OK. I don't blame her. I understand her choice on two levels. One, vindication on national television. I'm not a reject! Two, It's sort of the dream every girl has when she's dumped right? Pathetic, but true. One day he'll realize he made a mistake and I was the best thing he ever had and he'll come back to tell me so. Yeah. Molly got what every girl wants. Making me question why we all want that. Pathetic? Yeah.

Molly should proceed with caution. He left? There's probably a reason. In Molly's case, how many of us will be surprised when Jason shows up bawling on the TV in another month and is quite certain it was Jillian he should have never left? Not I. But Jillian, Run. Run like the wind.

Is there anyone else who thinks he may be the most fragile and emotionally confused guy EVER? I mean, I think the amount and drama of his tears in 3 months of filming put Tammy Baker to shame.

And now I'm going to say something that may be crossing the line, but it must be said. How 'bout that kid? Did anyone else think little Ty might be a little...odd? But let's be fair - dad is probably confusing the heck out of him, and even Ty was shocked when they were reunited in New Zealand and he saw his dad running towards him sobbing like he had been shipwrecked on an island for 3 years and they were just being reunited. This isn't Lost, and until you live what poor little Walt lived through, try a less dramatic approach. I bet every week Ty's thinking, "Can't wait to see dad - this week it will be the most dramatic reunion EVER!" While Jason was Mauling Ty, you could hear his little voice asking, "Why you crying dad?" That's a question we'd all like answered. My brother Shawn has been in London for two weeks-- I can't imagine the kind of dramatic reunion I'll witness with his kids after that. Believe me, I'll be bringing the popcorn and snagging a front row seat.

I could go on for hours, but I won't. I'd like to hear what you have to say. I will end with this though. Deanna. What a letdown. It was so obvious that she really didn't care if she got him back and was just looking for one last shot at seeing her face on color TV. Besides the fact that her horrible outfit left me pining even more for a dash of Jillian's good taste, I expected more drama from her.

And that's where I thought the show was headed when Jason dumped Melissa. In my ideal world, after he dumped Melissa, he would have asked Molly to take him back and she would have brought it full circle by doing to him what he did to Deanna. Saying I'll pass. Then what you ask? The two lamest people to ever grace the bachelor---the two most drama-rama, attention loving fools could have cried their lives away together forever--Deanna and Jason finally end up together.

Victims of love, in love. Now that's Reality.

Fear Kills

2009-02-27T08:22:00.007-07:00

I was going to write a sort of funny, caustic post about a guy I met a couple nights ago from match.com and get a popular vote on something from said date that annoyed me. And which was the subject of heated debate between myself and Kristin and Abram. But something changed. Me. I hope.

A little context about said date. First, calling it a date is speaking very loosely in the first place. He approached me on match with an email that pretty much said, our profiles don't line us up as a match (mostly religion), but I'm open to new friends, wanna meet? His actual email was much more clever and witty than what you just read and after a trillion emails with messages like "You're hot.", "Open up and let a black man in", and "I rilly think u'll like me." his was so refreshing and smart that I thought it was worth the effort to make a new friend.

We met up for hot chocolate. We had good conversation and it turns out that he used to skip class in high school with my brother Ryan. Small world. And this makes him very cool in my eyes. I thought he was interesting, attractive, and nice. The sign off was a bit awkward--umm..nice meeting you. Dead space. Bye. What do you say when the terms of the meeting are so ambiguous?

I drove home and a few minutes later got an email from him. It said he enjoyed the chat and the time, but knew the end was awkward because usually you decide to go on a date again or not, but what do you say to a potential friend? Agreed. But I think there was a part of me that expected him to be so swept away by me he didn't want to be just friends. (I know. I know.) This was the kicker though - he ended with, "So if you ever want to kill some time, I would welcome another soda (although you won't be able to count on me to buy the drink next time :p )"

My initial reaction was annoyance. Why?

1. Because why would he just want to jump to friends (and yes, I know we were meeting as friends - but come on.) was there something wrong with me? (OK-too much Bachelor TV, I know)

and 2....was he annoyed I let him pay for my drink and this was his way of letting me know that him paying wasn't happening in the future cause we were just friends?? I see the smiley face, but it sounds like a jab.

Pause. Think about the email. What would your reaction have been? Honestly. Tell me. I felt like he was saying I should have paid for myself, and that in his offer of friendship, he wanted to be clear that the same mixup (of him paying) didn't happen again.) I felt a little stupid truth be told. Like I had mis-stepped.

I told Kristin and Abram I was annoyed. They said I was an idiot. Of course we often have a difference of opinion on that particular point so it didn't hold a ton of weight with me. I did decide to sleep on it though. Mostly based on their strong reaction to my reaction.

The next day I responded to his email and decided to not be annoyed and to trust his good intentions instead of the typical and obviously easier route to follow. In my email I told him I would love to be friends. I did ask if he was upset that I didn't offer to pay for my drink, but only by way of apology if I wasn't being considerate. I also couldn't resist asking why in his mind the being friends route made the most sense. I told him since we were friends and all I should be able to ask.

I got a wonderful response from him that put me to shame. First he made it totally clear that he had no problem paying, and in fact felt like men should pay on dates as it is the chivalrous thing to do. So, Kristin and Abram--my bad. You two were right--it was a joke. I'm sad that it was my own insecurity that made me read it otherwise.

Second he wrote a really, really nice paragraph about how he laughed out loud when he read my question about "friends" because he considered me to be the total package and that he found me enchanting. I love that word btw. Guys should definitely use it more. He said it really was the religion thing and the role it plays in his life that made him think friends was the right path. I think he was being honest because he said that if he read my commitment to my religion wrong to let him know and we could try a date instead.

And so I am left with a couple thoughts. (Besides the obvious facts that I have self esteem issues and I watch too much TV.)

1. Trust people's best intentions and don't always read in the worst. I get this and work on it and yet constantly revert back to the dark side. If I had responded sarcastically or out of anger, it would have produced a much different result AND for no good reason since my assumptions were all false. All of them.

2. This is where we have to divert a little from "He's just not that in to you" logic ladies. And even though this isn't a romantic relationship, the logic follows. I think that movie/book speaks truth. Word. BUT... I also think there are times we handicap ourselves. Meaning, he may be interested and would pursue, maybe even has, and our low self-esteem or our negative assumptions kill the deal. The rules only apply when you are healthy and acting from a place of strength.

This was a good lesson for me. I'm sad that I reacted from a place of fear - but I'm glad I forced myself to wait and try on trust for size in my response. I'm thrilled that he is open and honest and that he's making smart decisions based on what he knows about us - which bodes well for a good friendship. And I'm curious (And A.L. you know who you are) how many of you would have reacted like me when you saw the first email. It's easy to say you wouldn't have now that you know the end of the story--but let's get some honesty here. Go.

Bachelor Enlightenment? No.

2009-02-24T18:27:00.003-07:00

This is Jillian. Cute, right?

Did you watch The Bachelor last night? I didn't, but I caught up tonight. A little follow up to the angry rant of last week.

On this week's show, there was one moment that I was especially pleased to see. Thrilled in fact. And hopeful that I would finally get some answers.

Alas, just like all the political debates I painfully sat through this past year I was left with fewer answers than I started with.

At any rate, this highlight, this magical moment if you will, was when Chris asked our ever-lovin' bachelor why he couldn't make it happen with Jillian. And then pushed him on it a couple times.

OF COURSE Mr. Bachelor gave the standard answer, "We had everything going for us, she would be my best friend, but the chemistry just wasn't there."

Chris didn't buy what he was selling. (Bravo Chris, bravo.) He said, "So, you're in the hot tub with Jillian — your friend — in New Zealand... things got really heated.'' And when Jason tries to brush it off by saying that there was passion, just not enough for a marriage, Harrison isn't buying what he's selling: ''What you did in the hot tub almost consummated marriage,'' and ''Cinemax called — they said it was too hot."

Thank you Chris, and bless you Chris for saying what millions of women have asked men for years with no satisfactory response. Or maybe just me. At any rate like Chris I was confused, and I was fooled.

So riddle me this people. What does the bachelor (and for that matter all bachelors across the country) mean when he says there is no physical attraction? Cause I'll tell you this--when I have no physical attraction, the LAST thing I'm gonna do is make out with said person in a hot tub---in fact I'm not even going to let them get arm's length. I'll be pulling the old "high five" at the end of the date move that I learned from Sean Hedquist.

That's...no attraction. So if anyone has ANY insight - please. Please. Enlighten me.

Auntie update

2009-02-22T20:30:00.004-07:00

Two cute moments that needed to be recorded for grams and gramps in Australia.

I went over to Lisa and Shawn's house on Friday night and they were having pizza with another family. Shawn asked who wanted to say grace on the food and Max jumped up real quick-like and began to pray.

I have to admit that as he was saying the blessing I was really straining to understand what the heck he was saying, but I only caught the words food, safe and play. As he said Amen, the kid sitting across the table from him responded loudly and clearly with, "I didn't understand a word that came out of his mouth!"

I had to agree, but thought it could have been addressed a little more kindly.

Second moment really captures Aviva, Kristin's 1 year old little girl. Kristin is more and more thrilled every time she sees a new obnoxious behavior from this child because she thinks it's just like she was. We'll see how much she likes it when that attitude is directed at her from a teenage daughter.

Anyway, Aviva and ginormous cousin Ben, just 7 months older were playing. A boy came over and took their toy and pushed Ben. Ben, the huge, older one started crying because he has a very tender little heart. Aviva on the other hand was on fire. As I scooped her up off the floor she flung her body around so she could see over my shoulder where the little boy had gone and the whole time she was screaming a wild epithet of indistinguishable words at this boy. None of us needed a translator however. It was perfectly clear that little boy was getting a serious piece of her mind.

So while Kristin's kids are different ages, and different genders they do share one thing in common. No one can understand a WORD either of them says. And they're real cute. And they got big time attitude. But mostly, you can't understand 'em.

I Hate the Bachelor

2009-02-16T19:44:00.004-07:00

Why won't the guy EVER chose the best friend? Why is it always most attraction, least substance??? Dude says he wants a good mother for his son. It is also clear they (oh- the girl he kicked off last night -Jillian) have the best, easiest connection. And this girl is attractive. Did you see her in the hot tub?

I realize this sounds bitter, and yes, in fact it is. And yes, you're right again, I AM always the best friend. So yes, it's personal. BUT I will never understand why a guy doesn't want to be with a girl that is actually an equal and a friend who understands the big words and makes him laugh and have fun.

His final words, "I was totally falling for her, but I just wasn't in love with her." Read: In-fatuated or In lust.

While I do hate him now. And I'm sure I will hate him even more when next week they bring back Deanna, and he inevitably wants that major LAMO publicity hog back, for now I am glad at least that this validates everything I have always thought about how love works. I finally have confirmation that it can never be the friend. Even if you are attracted enough to sleep with her like our Bachelor did -- it's just not ENOUGH attraction. (sorry, couldn't resist the last jab.) So, bless the Bachelor for that. For the standard of truth it boldly and proudly bears.

I feel better. Thanks.

(p.s. I know every week is like "the most dramatic week EVER, but did you SEE the previews for the final show??)

I Heart Vampires

2009-02-16T16:52:00.005-07:00

It's a toss on which holiday usually has the biggest letdown effect - New Years or Valentine's Day. This year they were both delightful because I figured out the secret. Zero expectations. I pretty much forgot it WAS V-day until...about..well, OK, 8:30 am.

That's when I was awakened to a gentle little tap at my door. And what was behind door number one? Only the best surprise ever. (No, not Dr. McDreamy and a diamond ring, but close.) Max and Kristin holding a tray with breakfast in bed. Talk about a great start to the day! I doubt I could find a man who would have thought to do that for me on V-day. And there sure as shootin' isn't one who would look so darned cute with his lips pursed and eyes rolled to the top of his head as he lisped out, "Happy Vawentines day Aunt Shawi."

The morning was great, but good news - it only continued to improve until it was topped off by the real icing on the cake. Shawn, Lisa, Kristin, Abram and I went to see the only movie that authentically captures the essence of Eternal Love - Twilight. I tried to convince Abram and Kristin to dress up like Vampires so we could surprise Shawn and Lisa when we walked in, but they didn't go for it. Probably just cause we were short on time. Otherwise, why not?

After the movie we captured our adventure on film for posterity. The first pose is...you know.. nice.

I said, "Hey, let's pose like vampires now." Unfortunately, when the picture snapped you can see that only one and a half of us understood the idea.

Kristin and Abram agreed to do another pose (I'm sure they were just caught off guard by the sudden impulse), but Shawn REFUSED. Not grudgingly agreed. Not slowly persuaded. Just wouldn't do it. We had to pull his arm just to get him in the picture at all. You can see that Lisa and I really captured the essence of Vampiring here (think Alice in the shocking fire scene. Kristin was all about it too, but I have to believe if Abram was in character he wouldn't look quite so happy about the fatal bite she was laying on him.
Shawn I did an injustice to though. Upon reflection, and if you've seen the movie you know what I'm talking about, he actually truly captures the personality and role of one of the leading vampires - Rosalie. Nice work Shawn. I just didn't get it at the time.

The Gift of Love

2009-02-08T13:39:00.011-07:00

I like thinking of gifts for people. I like giving gifts and watching them react because they really, really like it. Fortunately a holiday is coming up. Unfortunately it’s Valentine’s Day which is not a day I typically have anyone to give a gift to.

I don’t see why I shouldn’t still have the fun of finding fun gifts anyway for those of you who actually do have someone you just can’t wait to show how much you love. With a very special gift. Like boxers embroidered with your name in pink. Seriously? Who loves this gift? The guy you give the boxers with the hearts on them or you because you love male “lingerie”? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

So here’s some other options I found. And don’t be afraid to do as I will this holiday and buy something for the person you should love the most…yourself.

For the woman in your life (aka yourself.):

As the small print says, this tiny heart actually grows in the shape of a pearl. Sterling silver. Not a bad price for something so delicate and...rare. $42. Much better than the $4200 Tiffany earrings you'd also like. (Click HERE to buy/see.)

For your...err.. romantic side. Victoria's Secret has cleverly come up with a new line in their "Booty Shop." In case you don't get the play on beauty and booty - well, that's what's going on. Try the kissing set and use it as an excuse to help make necessary adjustments...or try the more risque chocolate fondue option which btw, they advertise as fat free which should eliminate any associated guilt at this purchase, right? If you get option two, well, that's your business. Capiche? (Click HERE to buy/see)

For the man in your life:

Option one gives you the chance to say, "hey, I support your silly inner child and as much as I don't want to scratch up my dining room table, well, you live here too." Think you can do it? I doubt it too. But maybe you have an old table in the basement he could use? A fun gift for kids too! A Bargain at $27.99 (Click HERE)

Option Two is something any guy (and I base this only on my brother in law Abram) would love to get and wear proudly. Unlike the awesome pink heart boxers. This site has fantastic T-shirts with funny sayings. Pick the one that best suits your guy. A few samples pictured. I realize that the New Mexico one may sound borderline racist, but if you don't read it and laugh out loud...well, you're just not admitting it. USA T is for my brother Garrett while in Australia. YOU know what I'm talking about GQ. (Click HERE)

For anyone who wants to use this day as an excuse to feed your chocolate animal inside:

Valentine's Day is supposed to be about chocolate and flowers, so lest I neglect the most important of the two....here's a treat I can't wait to sink my teeth in to. Love Nuts. And odd name, but who am I to judge?

I haven't tried it yet, but the combination of sweet, salty and chocolate with nuts seems impossible to screw up. In the interest of good investigative journalism, I have ordered some to try and will let you know in a future post if they live up to expectation.
Here's the description: Hand roasted NUTS, quickly caramelized, with a pinch of salt from the sea, then tossed in our delicious signature chocolate blend, topped off with extra brut cocoa powder.
A bag of your favorite kind are $9.99, but the double boxed portion shown above is $21.99. However, the Tiffany colored ribbon alone assures me that I won't be disappointed. (Click HERE)

For your little girl:

This is a great gift for a daughter or friend. Your initial or hers— and a crown charm cause hey, she’s your little princess! Personalization never looked better than this Pick Up Sticks double sided Initial Charm. One side has an elegant white script inital on a black background, the flip side shows a crowned block initial surrounded by laurel leaves. (Click HERE)

Finally, for those of you who like I always do, break up with your boyfriend the week before Valentine's day:

How about a Heart Knife Block? Pull that knife out of your heart! Are you unlucky in love and wishing you could extract your revenge on that loser ex of yours? Unfortunately, using the knife on your ex will land you in jail but taking out your rage on the Heart Knife Block might be just what the heart doctor ordered.
The Heart Knife Block is made out of ABS plastic and contains 5 stainless steel knives. Standing at 11.25”x12”x7” the Heart Knife Block includes a 8” chef knife, 8” bread knife, 8” carving knife, 5” utility knife, and a 3.5” paring knife.
It's a slightly pricier gift at $119.95, but I think you'll get your money's worth in the therapy time it may save you. (Click HERE)

For a cheaper version, check out the $69.99 "ex-voodoo" set.

Getting a Grip

2009-02-08T06:57:00.007-07:00

Ramblings ahead. You've been warned.

Why on earth, can't a girl go shopping the first week of February and find one black boot in any size except 6 or 10? This is Michigan right? I mean winter will be lasting for 4 more months, right? Shocking. And please. It only makes me angry to see shop windows filled with yellow and pink sleeveless cotton tops and dresses and..shorts? Are you kidding? It's like taunting...no, it IS taunting us. Don't act like if I buy that outfit I can wear it anytime in the near future. It's sick.

Yesterday Kristin and I went to the big mall up in Troy. Thus the rant above. I had a full day of my sister to shop with, eat with, and watch "He's just not that into you" with. It was one of my most delightful days in the past year and reminded me how glad I am to have her as my sister. There's no one you can laugh with in quite the same way who knows ALL your history.

On the way home from shopping, there was a bit of a mishap. We drove in Kristin and Abram's totally awesome 19__ who knows what Honda accord. It shakes while you drive, the door handle is falling off, it smells like mildew and has a permanent engine light on. For starters. I was thrilled with the way it vibrated my thighs all the way to the mall cause I figured I might be working off some cellulite that way, but I digress.

As we were driving home to go to a movie all of a sudden a new sound and a wholly new shaking motion got thrown in to the mix. I wondered aloud what it might be and Kristin in a panicked tone exclaimed it was probably the tire. We pulled off and sure enough, it was flat as a pancake.

We were obviously disappointed that this meant we would miss our movie and be sitting on the side of the road for who knows how long until help arrived (and roadside assistance is not known for it's prompt arrival) and Kristin was also a little perturbed at the fact that this would happen at all.

I have to say, I quite enjoyed it. We decided to list the good things like it wasn't freezing like usual, there was plenty of gas in the car to keep the heat on, and of course the fact that she had me to entertain her. (that may or may not have been on the list.) Things kept looking up from there.

Help arrived in 20 minutes instead of 40 or 60, and we had a great time joking around with the guy as he removed the tire with witty comments like "Do you want Kristin to get out of the car before you jack it up--she's pretty heavy." And, "Do you know where we can make a fair trade - one husband for four tires." Oh, me. The good times were rolling then.

Honestly, we laughed a lot, we found out there was a movie 3o min later we could still make and we arrived in a good mood. So good Kristin even shoved my face in a drinking fountain while I was drinking and tried not to choke on the water in her mouth she enjoyed it so much.

So see? Lemons can be made out of lemonade. And on top of all that I learned many a valuable lesson from the movie He's Just not that into you, which I highly recommend for all single ladies. Especially the ones who are just coming out of a breakup, or who should be. The message- let's stop lying to each other and ourselves. And stop telling stories about someone you know who against all odds made it work out to try and give hope to someone it is clearly NOT going to work out for. Exception my friends, not the rule.

Killing the Laughing Hyena

2009-02-06T06:42:00.002-07:00

A couple nights ago I did my first ever yoga class. My previous extensive experience with yoga involved a video tape I used once. Well, used for about 10 minutes before deciding it was too hard on my arms. Largely because I have never had even one muscle in said arms.

I want to love yoga because of the book Eat, Pray, Love. The author made it part of her personal hero's journey and it sounded so inspiring - I wanted to take the same journey. It's also (as any good People, US Weekly, or Star reader knows) a part of every celebrity's exercise regime and you can see how awesome their bodies are, so...yes, why not?

My fear is the boredom. And the challenge to my muscle-less arms. But I can take some challenge if I'm not watching the clock, and let's face it, yoga seems dead slow. Especially to someone who makes running her exercise of choice because you can get the most bang for your buck in the shortest amount of time.

Fast forward to Wednesday night. I got my mat out, situated it at the back of the room (Thanks Michelle for getting us off the front row!) and got in my tree pose as I surveyed the room for people who looked they would be less flexible than me. Yes, this makes me feel better.

I was pleasantly surprised by the level of the class. It wasn't too hard for an inexperienced beginner like me to catch on to, but it wasn't super easy either. My arms did shake and tremble with every pose, but she never held it so long that I had to give up. Well, except once-ish.

The thing that's most unique to me about yoga (and by unique I mean crazy) is that new-agey spiritual thing they got going on. It always seemed a little silly and over the top to me how they talk to you and coach you with all this positive energy and use find your happy place language like, "if you wish, you can put your arm through your legs and balance on your head for more of a challenge, but only if you feel ready and at peace...etc.." "This is your time. Feel your way. Love yourself. Hug a tree." Whatever. You know, the kind of garbage I'm talking about. No one says that to me while I'm pounding away on the treadmill. In fact my internal conversation is more like this, "Can't you run any faster you fat slob?? Sheesh, that old lady with the white hair is lapping you!"

It was a bit hard for me to swallow, in fact my downward dog wanted to become laughing hyena, but I kept thinking about it (you have lots of time to think in yoga) and realized...hey, this may be a good thing. All this crazy positive energy. Maybe the problem is me and what they're saying isn't so much cheesy as much as I'm just not used to hearing affirmation or even giving it to myself. Hello.

So I'm going to keep giving yoga a go. And I'm going to tune out the noise in my head and accept those cheesy affirmations and embrace them until I can take the word cheesy off the front of that statement every time I think about it. Who knows? Maybe I'll become a more positive person, and wouldn't that be amazing? (No answer from you Tricia.)

So at the end of the class, when I was laying on my back and thinking about how amazing it was that I did downward dog for more than 30 seconds without passing out, she said, "Let's thank our bodies now (pause...) for taking us through this entire class." I couldn't have said it better myself. And I embraced that affirmation...sans cheese.

Chocolate - My Winter Friend

2009-02-03T17:47:00.005-07:00

Every once in a while something pops up in my inbox that is so irresistible, I am forced to immediately purchase it. That happened today. (I free myself from all chocolate diet restrictions in the winter because the way I see it, I'm suffering so much I deserve somethin' special to get me through.)

Witness two must-haves for any person who has ever thought the ultimate dream come true might be living in a house all made of chocolate or taking a chocolate bath, or simply getting hooked up to a chocolate i.v. I don't know, they just popped in to my head.

Voila!

Instant Chocolate Fondue AND Hot Chocolate on a stick. French pots 'o chocolate you put in your microwave for a few minutes OR dark and/or hazelnut chunks of goodness on a stick that you stir in to your hot milk for Belgian style hot cocoa. Decadent? Yes. Do I deserve it? Yes. Sign me up for a dozen. Check out these delicacies here.

I love Jesus but I drink a little.

2009-02-03T12:04:00.004-07:00

Last night Kristin asked me if I had read our friend Kristen's blog lately and seen the Ellen clip she posted. I told her I hadn't, but I knew right away what she must have posted--my favorite person EVER to be on Ellen's show - Gladys.

I saw it live last year, but after re-watching it (thanks Kristen!) I thought it was worth posting in case any of you missed it. Stick with the whole thing because it gets progressively more hilarious. With Ellen's reactions just adding icing on the cake. (Gladys 1).

For those of you who end up adoring her as much as I do, here (Gladys 2) is her latest conversation with Ellen this year. And another favorite when she talks about American Idol. (Gladys 3)

To hear her is to love her.

Last Chance Harvey

2009-02-01T18:30:00.004-07:00

Since I'm on a movie kick and all, I thought I'd stay on topic for one more post.

This weekend I actually burrowed my way through all the snow and ice to a movie theater to see the film "Last Chance Harvey."

For those of you who haven't seen it, it stars Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson and tells the story of a man in his 50/60's who loses his job, his relationship with his daughter and his flight and is forced to confront what the next step is and why this happened. He meets Emma who is a 40ish single woman and the forge an unlikely bond. (Check out preview here: Trailer )

I read the reviews before going and the critics mostly panned the movie itself, although the praised the acting. The reviews from the users were pretty mixed with some enjoying it and others saying it was dreadfully slow and boring. I went with tentative expectations.

I thought the story was subtle and well-crafted, I thought the characters were fantastic in their very average-ness. Each one was wholly believable, and you could relate to at least one and know someone like the others. There was nothing beautiful or amazing about them in any way (Note: Emma Thompson's horrible scrunchy worn everywhere!) - they were truly just living average lives and more than halfway through said lives too. By the end, I was in love. With the movie and with them. I shed a few tears, I felt pride, embarrassment, joy, hope, frustration-- a whole realm of emotions I usually leave behind when I enter the theater.

Here's the interesting thing. As I walked out the door to the movie thinking how much I liked it, a couple in front of me were talking and they said to each other, "That movie was horrible. It was the slowest ever. So boring." Were we in the same theater? I guess that explains the mixed reviews.

So here's my question to you-- if you've seen it please weigh in. I want to find out if it really was as good as I thought, or if it might be that I just liked it because I'm a few years away from being a 40 year old spinster myself and just related. Thoughts?

Movie Goodness

2009-01-31T15:05:00.002-07:00

Seeings how we're in the middle of a long frozen hibernation, making it the perfect time to cuddle up with a blanket and a movie I thought I'd mention one of the best ones I've seen in a long time.

While I was in Australia I spent time with and learned the history of the Aboriginal people in this country. Someone recommended to my mom that she see the movie Rabbit Proof Fence before going to the movie Australia. We did and it was about 100x better than Australia.

It's the story of 3 little girls who are part of the lost generation-- stolen from their home and their mother to be trained as housekeepers for white people and to be "bred" with white people to get rid of their black-ness. The little girls have to make a decision whether to attempt the 1500 mile journey by foot home or to accept their fate. It's inspiring, educational and touching. I'm not sure how I missed it since it came out in 2002, but if you pay a visit to your local blockbuster this weekend, pick this one up--it's a goodie.

Another Match Miss

2009-01-27T19:20:00.004-07:00

Alright, I haven't done any random Match.com posts for awhile, but there is one that came last night that is simply too irresistible not to share.

So I don't want to totally violate his privacy by sharing his user name, but it's tall___bm. (I cut out one word.) I had no idea what bm might stand for except that when I was little my mom always asked me if I needed to have a bm (bowel movement) and I thought it was something weird they only said in Idaho where she grew up. I now know it's even more localized than that.

Anywho.. let's take a look at tall___bm.

His message is short and to the point. Subject: Open up..., Message: ...and try a black man.

I have to admit I felt a little attacked on first reading. As if he thought I wasn't open to a black man and I needed to be. Probably not his the intention, but no matter how I read it, I continue to find the disturbing on each and every level. It also became quite clear what bm stands for. Clearly his color is an important defining and even selling point to him. While I am open to "trying a black man", it won't be this one.

One more Match pet peeve. Why do guys post half naked pictures of themselves? This week I have received no fewer than 5 solicitations from men with no shirt - some flexing in a mirror. Blech. Is this some sort of selling point? I don't care how great your body looks, as soon as I see that you think it looks awesome enough to bare it...well, peace out.

What's interesting to me, is that I guarantee the opposite is true for men. Post a half naked pic of yourself and if you've got a "rocket bod" (tribute Cary Palmer) EVERY guy is going to contact that woman. Interesting and telling, no?

Smitten

2009-01-26T09:43:00.002-07:00

I saw this posted on my friend Elizabeth's blog and it was TOO good not to share with the world. You can and should check out her blog if you want to be entertained here.

For those of you who are married or in a relationship let me just say two words: Valentine's Day.

What gift could make your little shmoopie happier than this gem? Just think, the two of you really can be one all the time. You'll be "knit" together in love. Oh the joy of wordplay.

As it says in the ad, "they are specially designed so two people can hold hands in one mitten." Never let bulky gloves and other material come between you and your lover again! There's no reason to be apart ever again!!!

For those of us who don't have a sweetie-pie, it does put a bit of salt in the wound. Especially if you bought them when you did have someone to share it with and then he left and now you wear it with one little hand just hanging limply by a thread. Much like my dating life. Regardless - the cleverness of this product delights me.

So just know you saw it here first (and of course Elizabeth saw it before me - credit where due) and you still have time to order here before the big shopping rush in February.

Enigma

2009-01-25T17:25:00.002-07:00

Today at church a woman was visiting from Utah that is my mother's age. We started talking in the hallway and she stopped and said, "You are an enigma to me." I wasn't sure how to respond-- is that a compliment?

I waited, and she continued. "I have been talking about you to a lot of people" (scary) "and I don't understand..."

Can you fill in the blank? I bet you can.

"..why you aren't married. You're smart, and pretty, and blah, blah...is it you or them?"

It's funny, because I'm an enigma to myself. I think everyone wonders about it, and assumes SOMEONE is the problem, cause either you're too picky, or the guy can't commit, but there has to be an answer. And people think if they ask you that you can put their mind at rest and they can finally say, "Oh, I see - she just has a severe psychological problem. That explains it."

Sadly, I have no answer for these people. But hey, maybe you know it, and in that case fill me in.

But let me say this for those of you who will come back with "You're too picky." Ask yourself this--what does that really mean? Is it better to not be picky and just get married? Judging by the 50% divorce rate, I have to say nay. Of course, judging by the people some of you have wanted to set me up with, I assume many of you will disagree and think I should be OK with a guy who has been in jail, doesn't like kids but (hurrah) IS the same age as me. It's ok, I'm open to your opinion.

At any rate, it's kind of fun to be an enigma. Like James Bond.

Creative street lines

2009-01-20T16:15:00.006-07:00

I'm in New Orleans with a client. Last night Brian, Elizabeth, Chad and I went out to dinner on Bourbon Street. As we were wandering the streets searching for a restaurant (in a direction Brian was quite sure was the right one) we passed a college aged guy who stopped us and in a frantic voice said, "Can ya'll help me? I'm in a fix cause I just found out my mom is in the hospital and I need to go see her." As everyone kind of looked at him I responded (empathetically) "I'm sorry, we don't have a car."

Apparently this whole I need to get the hospital to see my mom thing is a common line in New Orleans (also according to Brian) to get money, but I didn't know that at the time and wasn't sure how I could help without transportation to bring him to his ailing mama.

I think I stumped him a little too, cause he almost continued on, but then after a pregnant pause said, "Well you see, I actually don't need a ride, I'm gonna have to get me on a greyhound down to baton rouge..." You know the rest. Money was denied, we continued on. But the rest of the group got a good laugh at my sincere claim that we would love to help him if we only had a car.

I also offended some kids who walked by us in formal attire by saying "Is it prom tonight?" Disgusted look, disdainful voice, "WE'RE in college." hmph.

Excuuuse me. Is it my fault that all people under 25 look high school age to me now?

Boundaries can be a good thing

2009-01-15T13:25:00.002-07:00

I was dreading my layover in Korea on the way home. I had to spend the night, and when I did that on my last trip to Australia it was a nightmare. I stayed in a scary, ghetto hotel, I couldn’t sleep all night, I didn’t understand how to make my lights go on or how to flush a toilet, etc…

Last night was a wonderful surprise. Courtesy of the Hyatt Regency Incheon. It’s the only nice, western-style hotel in Incheon and I was smart enough to stay there this time and not just save a buck cozied up to the prostitutes this time.

It was magical. I had a huge, luxurious room, everything was in English (easy toilet flushing) and best of all they had a spa. After my “panic attack” I thought this might be a great idea. I called and asked for a massage. They asked if I wanted a “scrub” first. I thought this would be a great idea since I was covered with dry skin from all the sun in Australia, and hey, it was only a $15 add-on.

I walked in to the gym and all the old confusion returned. First they handed me a robe and a pair of grey cotton gym shorts and a locker key. I got the key and the robe, but the shorts had me baffled.

Mistake #1: The locker key goes to not one, but two lockers. I was wandering around the locker room getting the lay of the land when a lady started telling me in Korean something I didn’t understand. She took me to the entrance and showed me small lockers. “shoes.” Ah…no shoes allowed. I get that. You put your shoes in the little locker and get slippers on. THEN you go to the big locker and put your clothes in there and put on your robe and… shorts? It seemed like she was saying yes.

Mistake #2: I had on my robe and gym shorts and wandered through the locker room again to what looked like a door to a sauna. I walked in and saw all the women were naked. Some sitting on stools with little shower nozzles spraying themselves off, some in the sauna, some in a hot tub or cold pool. It was pretty cool (minus all the naked women) but I realized I was wearing a lot more than everyone else.

Mistake #3: SO, I went out and took off my robe and shorts, put them in my locker and rejoined all the naked people feeling a bit self-conscious since I’m not accustomed to walking around naked much. As I entered the door AGAIN (3rd time) I noticed a bowl of salts by the door. All of a sudden I thought, maybe the scrub I bought was access to this facility and I scrub myself down? No one else had salt, but I had paid, so I grabbed a handful and started scrubbing it on my arms and legs. Grabbed another handful and sat on one of the nifty shower stools and scrubbed more salt on and prepared to wash off. I got a lot of surreptitious looks, but I figured, ah, probably haven’t seen a naked westerner before.

Mistake #4: I finished rinsing off, grabbed a towel, went back to my locker, put on my shorts and robe again and walked out to reception. “Is it time for my massage?” Broken English—“Uh, no, no—go back in to hot tub. Wait for scrub. 20 minute more.” Hmm…pretty sure now that I wasn’t supposed to scrub myself, and also realized I had to go get undressed…AGAIN. I took it all off, went back and hot tubbed and sauned, and cold tubbed, and sauned, and hot tubbed some more and finally a lady came in who spoke NO English and told me to follow her.

Mistake #5: Learn Korean. The scrub woman had on bristle-y rubber gloves and she signaled for me to lay on a hard table on my back. The only words she knew were “massag-ey” and “hard?” She started scrubbing and seemed amazed and thrilled by all the dead skin she was finding which she proudly showed me. This woman scrubbed me to within an inch of my life AND scrubbed me everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I had to lie on my front, back and both of my sides in odd positions. But I couldn’t talk to her and tell her stuff or find out what the heck she was doing. At one point she scrubbed my back so hard and so long that I think she removed an extra layer skin and I had to screech for her to stop. She said, “Hard?” “Massag-ey?” Umm….YES. I will say I have not felt this smooth since my Turkish Bath where I was also beat to a pulp, but I did feel more than slightly violated, manhandled and sensitive where I lost some extra skin.

Next stop was the massage with oil. Before I went in, I asked the lady in the locker room (with signals naturally) if I was supposed to wear the gym shorts. I didn’t want to make the same mistake I did in Turkey and show up naked when everyone else was dressed. She kept nodding her head, so I guess that meant yes.

Mistake #6: Wrong. As soon as the masseuse came in and saw me lying on my stomach on the table she took off the towel, saw shorts and pulled them down. Not off, just halfway down my legs. Which let me tell you, felt really, really weird.

The massage was going well though, no beat down, until all of a sudden I felt the table move. I couldn’t see what was going on since I was laying face down, but it was pretty clear she had straddled me on the table to get a better angle. At least I hoped that was why she was on my back. I couldn’t ask, obviously, and I could only go off of my experience last year with my Korean masseuse when she complimented my lady lumps, and a random story from Robbie Reid's trip Asia when his masseuse asked if he wanted a “happy ending.”

So now she’s straddling me and my shorts are around my knees and I started having a real panic attack as I think about these two stories. So much for the relaxing massage.

Turns out, no harm was done, no charges needed to be filed, and I walked away not only cleaner, softer and no doubt thinner, but also with a couple lessons learned. One, there are no professional boundaries in the world of Korean massage. This includes where you are rubbed, how much clothing you’re wearing and where the masseuse must stand. Two, I must learn how to say, “do I wear clothes?” in every language because I get myself in trouble with this in every country I go to. I never seem to be wearing the right amount.

I have never gotten dressed and undressed so many times in one spa experience, and the frustrating part is I still don’t know what those darned gym shorts were for. Unless it was just a little joke on the stupid Westerner that they all had a good laugh over later. I don’t blame them for this, I just want in on it.

Heart Attack or Panic Attack?

2009-01-15T13:24:00.000-07:00

Is what it felt like this morning when I woke up and packed my bags to leave. For some reason I was terribly, terribly sad to leave my folks and Adelaide – even more so than last time and this time I’ll see them in 6 months. Go figure.

I did have a moment of fear right before I left when I suddenly had sharp pain in my chest/shoulder and my whole left arm. I got short of breath and started worrying I was having a heart attack. We did research online, and called the ER, but I didn’t want to miss my flight which would create a domino effect to all my flights/layovers. Of course I didn’t want to die on the flight either.

Amy suggested it might be a panic attack, which baffled me at the time because although sad, I wasn’t any more sad than other times of saying goodbye in my life, and if I was going to have a panic attack it should have been in December before I left with all the stress at work than after 5 weeks of R&R.

The pain was off an on for the next 8 hours, and I did take my flight to Sydney. It finally went completely away. I have no idea what it was, but now I’m thinking—maybe it was a panic attack cause I'm still alive. Honestly the pain caused me more panic than what I felt before the pain, but who knows? Anyone ever have one before?

Seclusion? No Worries Mate.

2009-01-15T13:04:00.004-07:00

Happy Birthday to me.

For those of you who have been reading my blog since last year, or who have simply known me for a year, may remember my strong distaste for my birthday. You may remember how I am always distressed because I don’t want anyone to know how old I am or to celebrate because then I have to share how old I am and be embarrassed at the attention, but then when they don’t how distressed I become because no one cares. Even though I convinced them, often with threats, not to do anything. I know- I'm a sicko.

Last year, I thought I could escape all of that by going in to seclusion in LA, in an all day spa, where no one could possibly do anything if they wanted to, and I could just pretend the day never happened under the pampering hands of my masseuse. It was fairly successful, but there were still tears and sadness at some point during the day. (And also one magical moment that BD will not be happy I raised again when my Asian masseuse made comments about my L.L.’s. Lady lumps.)

I am here to tell you that I did not feel one pang of sadness, disappointment or despair this year. Not one. The day started with a birthday breakfast by my mom and the office staff. Sister Howes made me her special “Cherry-Ripe” Chocolate cakes as well.

After breakfast, mom, dad, Garrett and I went to a wildlife park to see the koalas and kangaroos and other Australian wonders. We got our obligatory pictures to prove we were in Australia and headed on back home.

After that I took a book out to my favorite spot at the mission home—the back porch swing – and I just rocked and read in the warm summer sun for a good couple of hours. This swing is my happy place—a little slice of heaven in Adelaide.

The day ended with the family and the Howes (our favorite Adelaide couple!) going to dinner at a restaurant overlooking the beach and then a blanket on the sand to watch the sun go down on my birthday and my time in Australia. It was perfect and lovely.

It wasn’t until the next day that I realized I was never sad. It’s not like something spectacular happened to make it extra special although I enjoyed everything we did that day. The only thing I can figure is that either

1. I am now fully Australian after 4 weeks down under and really have “no worries mate.”
2. I was with the only people I knew and all my expectations were met by being with the ones who love me most.
3. There was actually sun in January and it wasn’t the most depressing month of the year like it is in the states.
4. No one ALL day long, even once, asked me how old I was.
5. I’m too old to worry about it any more. I just don’t care how old I am.

Or maybe a combination of all of these. I really don’t know, and frankly I don’t really care. The last thing I want to do is over-think it and lose this zen-like moment. All I can say is, it was a pleasure to finally have a birthday where no tear was shed. Who knows? Maybe I’m just plain growing up. Probably not, but you never know.

Buried Alive

2009-01-15T13:01:00.002-07:00

I decided on Saturday I wanted one last beach day before heading back to winter. Mom, dad and I got ready (meaning mom and I put on swimsuits and dad put on his most casual full length jeans and t-shirt, as well as country appropriate head gear) packed up a picnic lunch and headed off to catch some rays.

After unpacking our stuff we realized it was pretty windy, but we ate our lunch, and then hunkered in for a nap. Dad was snoring soundly in about 5 minutes and I think I dozed off for a few minutes as well.

We had all covered our faces before sleeping to protect from the sun and the sand that was blowing in the wind, so with my eyes closed my hand started to feel around and I wondered if I had rolled off the blanket. It felt like I was sleeping in sand. I lifted my face covering and sat up to discover I was still on the blanket, but the blanket was fully buried in the sand. We were basically buried in a matter of 15-20 minutes. It didn’t seem to bother dad though— I guess when you’re fully dressed you don’t notice what you’re lying on as much.

The Bike Ride

2009-01-05T16:13:00.003-07:00

On Monday we did dad's favorite Adelaide activity and rode bikes along the river trail to the beach. It's about a 2 hr bike ride and after Garrett's late night put him in at 1am and his basketball game with the elders got him up at 5:45am, he was in no mood to bike at 10am for 2 painful hours.

Much like dad with the camels, Garrett was given no other option and with a glad heart (see picture) he gracefully acquiesced and came out to meet his 2-wheeled destiny.

I think my favorite part of the trip was dad commenting to Garrett on how beautiful the ride was and then asking Garrett how he liked it. Garrett replied that it would be much better if his thighs weren't "chaffing." Dad was kind enough to answer that at the next stop he would be happy to rub Garrett's thighs for him. You can imagine how Garrett felt about that offer.

When we finally got to the beach we were all exhausted. We were forced to bring our bikes on the beach since dad insisted they would "melt" if we chained them to the car, which was a bit odd, but fine. Mom met us with a picnic lunch and after we all hungrily gobbled down the food all four of us hit the sand hard and in about 2 minutes we were all sacked out. Dad's light snoring testified to that fact as he stretched out with a towel wrapped around his dome, and fully dressed in jeans and his "no worries" t-shirt. We must have looked like refugees---not so much from a country as an asylum.

It was a good trip.

My Humps, My lovely lady lumps

2009-01-05T15:31:00.004-07:00

A couple days ago Garrett and I went to the Murray River with some people he had met at convention. There were a couple boats and some tubes and skis and boards to play with behind the boats. It was "heaps fun" as they say, although a little bit abusive to the body as they try to whip you around on the raft with two others until they shake you off. Needless to say, I'm having trouble lifting my arms over my head today without intense pain.

On the last ride and a particularly brutal fall I climbed up in to the boat and sat there for a minute trying to breathe when I suddenly heard Garrett's panicked voice, "Shauri! Shauri!" I looked at him and he was frantically signaling at his chest. I had no idea what he was talking about and finally glanced down at my chest to see one of my, well, "lady lumps" catching some air. Apparently the fall had ripped part of my suit to the side.

Garrett didn't see it--his friend sitting with him made him aware of the...problem. I was a bit embarrassed at first, but then it became pretty funny to me and even funnier when I realized how much more embarrassed Garrett was than I was to see his sister's lovely lady lump exposed. He just sat with his head bowed, snorting and making laughing noises, rolling his eyes and looking generally uncomfortable.

I offered my sincere apologies to his friend that witnessed the event, but he didn't seem to want to talk about it. Go figure.

Rundle Mall

2008-12-30T22:45:00.002-07:00

A couple days ago mom and I went shopping at Rundle Mall in Adelaide. At one point we were shopping in a department store (David Jones) and we got separated. I circled the whole women's department about 4 times, but couldn't find her. She claims she was standing in the center the whole time - obviously we are both having a hard time corroborating the other's story.

I planned to page her, but figured first I would try on the clothes in my arms so that I would be ready to go once I found her. As I was trying on the last shirt and about to get dressed, I suddenly heard a loud announcement over the PA system. It went something like this;

"Ms. Shauri Quinn please report to the customer service desk on the first level, your mother is looking for you."

I kind of laughed at the fact that they said my mommy was looking for me--it made me sound like a lost 5 year old, but I gathered my stuff and started to make my way out until I realized the announcement was still going.

"We are looking for Shauri Quinn from the United States of America. Please report to your mother on the first level. If you are Ms, Shauri Quinn, American shopper your mother is looking for you. Please Shauri Quinn report to your mother."

The announcement went on for about 5 minutes and they continued to be very clear about my mother wanting to find me and where I was from. At that point, I backed in to the dressing room again, closed the door and waited a few minutes to let the voice subside a bit before I made my big exit/entrance. I didn't want everyone pointing fingers and whispering--there goes that American shopper Shauri Quinn who can't find her mommy! You know, the one shopping from the United States.

I'm a bit baffled why the over emphasis on where I was from. Is Shauri Quinn a very common name in Australia that requires extra clarification? Or perhaps they were having a little fun at the expense of the idiot Americans?

Luckily we were reunited. Australians certainly know how to help out in emergency situations. As long as they know what country you're from you're golden.

You Got Served

2008-12-30T21:50:00.000-07:00

One quick shout-out. For those of you who haven't already been there, my sister has an awesome cooking/food blog: You Got Served. Great name huh? I won't even pretend I don't love to toot my own horn, so yes, I won her "name my blog" contest.

Because I am the thrilled recipient of most of her meals and cooking efforts, I can assure you it is DELICIOUS food that can help you out when you need some great recipes in a pinch. She also tells you how to perfectly time you're cooking efforts so everything comes out hot and ready to the table at just the right time.

I also happen to be a guest writer on her blog for the most awesome chocolate chip cookies in the world this week, I can only assume that sweetens the pot (no pun intended) on your desire to see what's there. Enjoy!

Christmas

2008-12-30T21:45:00.009-07:00

It was a unique Christmas down under. Not bad, just unique.

Perhaps the highlight of the holiday was the night before Christmas. We had about 30 people over for dinner. People investigating the church, missionaries, a friend of Garrett and his family, and our family.

After dinner Garrett and I were in charge of running a game. We played Celebrity. Basically, for those of you not in the know, this is glorified charades. All participants put 3 names in a bowl (in our case, names from the scriptures) and then you divide in to two teams and alternate. Three rounds to get as many as you can. First round you can act it out or use descriptive words. Second round you can only say one word and act it out. Last round you can't use any words.

Many of our participants were either English as a Second language people, or more "senior" or just plain slow. It made for an interesting time.

Here are some of my favorite moments.

1. One of the senior lady missionaries put the name "Dorcas" in the bowl. This has two parts of funny. The first was when a missionary drew it and tried to get people to know who it was by saying "it's a name you call someone in America when they're not smart or annoying." We got a lot of colorful language, but no one hit on Dork, which would clearly lead to Dorcas. Second bit--the missionaries insisted there was no person named Dorcas in the bible and the Sr. Sister who put it spent the whole rest of the game disengaged, searching her scriptures for Dorcas, only at the very end joyfully jumping to her feet to read a passage of scripture proving the woman's existence. Her team lost, but she claimed a personal victory.
(See her studying as the game goes on)

2. One of the investigators was an Asian girl who spoke very little English and wasn't very familiar with some of the scriptures and their names. Especially ones from the random Book of Mormon. She got extremely frustrated as she tried to get her team to just get one name and finally started shouting (clearly against the rules) "it starts with J and has 5 letters." The best part is that her team still didn't get it causing Garrett to tell the whole team how pathetic they were as he snorted in disdain.

3. The last one I'll share was another investigator named Randall. He was about late 40's and Australian/Caucasian (meaning English WAS his first language) and he looked a bit like Ichabod Crane. He said some rather odd things at dinner, but the topper was when in the middle of the game he decided he wanted to contribute. (He didn't know many of the scriptural names that were getting called either.) Right as mom sat down and took the bowl he snuck over and threw a piece of paper in the bowl. Since it was on top, mom grabbed it first and got a strange look on her face. She had no idea what to do with it until one of the more "aware" missionaries figured out what paper she was looking at and snatched it out of her hands telling her to move on. Garrett and I looked at the paper Randall had written to see what name he put. He wrote, "Strong, Large, Small." Could the set up be more perfect that he wrote that and put it in just in time for mom to draw it?? Later we learned he was doing a new version of the game where he gives the clues rather than the name. Or something.

All in all, it was a delightful evening with very little sense to it, but a jolly spirit and a lot of love, and after all, isn't that what Christmas is really all about?

Also including a few pics from Christmas Day.

Dad dressed up as Santa to deliver presents to all the missionaries. The first pic is him showing us how he's "grown into" his Santa suit over the last 3 years.

Dad also had two little helpers. Garrett would NOT agree to antlers, but finally was persuaded to wear a Jr. Santa hat. He said he WOULD have worn a full elf costume if it was an option, which leads me to wonder why that is better than antlers...?

Christmas Morning.

I gave dad and Garrett matching "No worries" T-shirt which only dad was willing to model.

Elf said it best

2008-12-22T16:47:00.003-07:00

"The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear."

I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have said that if he heard this:

Instead he may have said, "The best way to create wide-spread fear is singing loud for all to hear." Thank you Flip video for ensuring all these magic moments are kept and enjoyed.

Out Bush

2008-12-21T23:18:00.006-07:00

That's what the Aboriginals say when they leave city life for the country and just disappear. I'm out bush. On Sunday we went out bush.

My parents mission covers Alice Springs and the outback country surrounding it. There are several Aboriginal groups out bush that they have missionaries working with. Some, like Lisa's parents are doing literacy programs, and others are doing service with the aboriginals and teaching them about our church. We decided to go and see what church was like out bush and to witness the baptism of a recent convert out there named Daisy.

It was a very humbling experience to see the way these people live and they way they have been treated by the white man and the government in Australia. In the efforts to "help make it up" they have introduced some of the same problems we introduced to our American Indians--alcohol(ism), gambling (addiction) and possessions that are of little consequence to them.

The missionaries out bush work with a tiny congregation which on Sunday we counted out to be about 27 people and 17 dogs. Dogs are quickly gaining too. It was a great experience to have church scraped down to the bare minimum--to it's essence and share it with people who care only about that essence - God and a spirit of Love. We had church under their "family tree" in about 110 degree weather on little wooden benches.

There was one moment during the service when Garrett and I had to nudge each other a little and that was as the missionaries passed the sacrament and we heard playing across the street from someone's car, Girls just wanna have fun! I swear that song has been part of every single trip I've taken since 1994, and since I doubt that I will ever hear it during church again, I kinda soaked it in.

The girl who was baptized did it in a metal tub in the open air garage. As you can see, the kids were enjoying the "font" quite a bit before the baptism took place.

The children were a bit wild, but adorable and really enjoyed swinging on the tree behind my dad, running in and out of the meeting, laughing and singing.

This little girl's shirt says it all I think. She was priceless.

Everyone fought to hold the newest little baby.

And before we left, Clifford who was sort of the head of the group asked our family to take a picture with his family under their family tree "since we were now part of their family." He really took a shine to Garrett too and kept sitting next to him and talking to him and asking him what his favorite Hymn was. He stumped Garrett on that one! (I think one of the best parts of this picture were the life sized toys and Santa the kids insisted on bringing out of the house to include in the picture.)

We were boiling hot, covered in flies, but not ready to leave. As hard as some of the smells were to stomach and the quality of life that we witnessed (including lots of basics like wiping kids eyes and runny noses and not all dipping dirty fingers in to one can of yogurt and eating it) it was a place filled with love and a reminder to think about all we've been blessed with, and what's really important.

A Sacred Site, A Steamy Spa, and Aussie Service

2008-12-21T16:57:00.005-07:00

This morning we got up and went on a hike around Uluru with two tour guides. One was a white guy and the other was an Aboriginal woman named Valerie. The rock is sacred to the aboriginals, and it is very upsetting to them when people try to climb the rock, although of course many do.

As we walked around the base of the rock, every once in a while Valerie would stop and teach us something about their ways and elements of the rock. She would speak in her language and then the white tour guide would translate. She actually speaks some English, but the belief is that what they are teaching you about their traditions should be taught in their language. I think it made the whole experience feel more sacred.

At one point she stopped by a tree to show us some berries that they eat –tiny little red berries that apparently have 9x the vitamin C of an orange. The white guide was explaining this to us and searching for berries. It took him several moments to triumphantly find one and pull it off the tree. When we looked back over at Valerie she had about 9 or 10 berries in her hand that she was eating.

The white guide laughed at how easily she found them, while he struggled for one. Later dad used this story as an analogy to show how sometimes we lack vision - especially with regard to sacred or important things in life and it isn’t until our eyes are opened by someone or by a sacred experience or God that the world changes and we suddenly see things we didn’t before. It was certainly apparent in this case.

She showed us some of the things they wrote on the walls – some seem to be stories to remember like the creation story. Other writing/drawing is to teach what they have learned to others. For example Valerie showed us where they had drawn a certain kind of snake to watch out for that was poisonous. It was very interesting.

In the women’s site she taught us some stories – one about a woman facing east and a monster dog who was chasing that woman. This is his paw print:

It was a fascinating experience and Valerie had the most peaceful spirit about her. She was a beautiful person.

After the hike we relaxed a bit and then I surprised everyone with an early Christmas present to get massages at the spa. Mom and I went first, and it was fairly uneventful, although I was surprised to be led in to a room with two tables where we got “couples massages.” I wasn’t expecting that and I was excited to hear about Dad and Garrett’s reaction when they were led in for theirs.

Perhaps the best part of the experience was when we were all in our robes in the sitting room and we learned that dad was wearing the disposable thong underwear. I could only imagine how thrilled he was to put that on. The funniest moment was when he was sitting in his chair with a short robe and not a very “lady-like” position (legs wide open) and mom frantically signaling to him to shut his legs. He didn’t get it and looked a bit annoyed when he finally figured it out. Mom was laughing so hard while she was signaling he couldn’t understand her.

Garrett said, “Mom you’ve seen him naked a million times, what’s the big deal?” And she responded indignantly, “Not in public!” I should hope not.

The other funny moment was when Garrett asked if men or women gave us massages and we said women. He looked very relieved because for some reason he didn’t want a man to give him a massage although dad didn’t care one way or the other. Garrett was very adamant about not wanting “big man hands” rubbing him. When it was time for them to go a woman and a man walked in to take their papers. Garrett got up with a big smile on his face off to his massage, but what he didn’t notice was it was the man who picked up his paper work. Mom and I got a big laugh thinking about them being led in to the couples tables and Garrett finding out he was getting man hands.

For dinner we went to “Australian Bar-b-que.” You pick your meat, they give you a grill and you grill it yourself. After we picked all our meat and loaded up from the buffet we moved over to the picnic tables and were treated to another Australian specialty—flies. Everywhere in the outback you get swarmed by flies – the aboriginals hardly even notice them now and you can see they let them crawl on their faces and eyes with hardly a care. I hadn’t had the full fly effect until this meal when they swarmed our food, faces and bodies. I have NEVER eaten so fast while fanning my food with my left hand, sticking in bites with my right and being careful not to leave my mouth open too long in case a fly decided to join my food. It was disgusting. I think we all ate in about 5 minutes flat and bolted.

This was the good part of the day. The less good part came in the form of that awesome Australian service I’ve been talking about in earlier posts. After we packed all our bags and lugged them over to the spot where we were getting picked up by a bus for our trip back to Alice we discovered the bus wasn’t coming. (First imagine how thrilled Garrett was to learn that he didn’t have to go on another flight after all his complaints – instead he got a 5 hour bus ride.)
Mom called the bus people about 8 times that day to confirm we knew what time pickup was and where we should meet the bus so you can imagine her chagrin and shock when the manager at the pickup spot told us no bus was coming. Apparently sometimes if they don’t have enough people they just don’t come. Interesting. We did finally get ahold of the bus driver (after he left Uluru) and he agreed to come back and get us. Here are some shots of us waiting:
(apparently dad and Garrett don't like sitting together.)

When he came back he was a bundle of cheer and no worries and g’day mates, and I have to say, I thought the bus was extremely comfortable and enjoyable. Not sure dad, Garrett and mom agreed, but I quite liked it. Of course I was a fan of the Chinatown bus trip that Lisa, Amy and Kristin have different feelings about as well.

About halfway through the trip the bus stopped and all of a sudden we heard some man saying, “I’m injured – not sure I can make it up there. Can’t get up there now.” And other random things. He was a very large man who looked sort of like the axe murderer guy in Adventures in Babysitting. (KQ, you know the guy). Garrett and I were shocked, or at least I was, because I had no idea how he got back there or that he was back there. Turns out there was some secret compartment by the bathroom with a curtain and a bed. Apparently mom on one of her bathroom visits didn’t know he was there either and swung the door wide smacking the poor man in the head. That may be when the “injury” occurred, not sure.

Other than that the trip was uneventful and we happily arrived back at our hotel in Alice around 1am. Ready and raring for our 6am wakeup call the next morning to go out bush.

I'll pay you back

2008-12-21T14:43:00.012-07:00

Garrett was thrilled to find out we were boarding another flight the next day out to Uluru, or as the white man calls it, Ayers Rock. A World Heritage site. The flight was just a short 30 minutes from Alice.

Mom was stunned on the flight when a woman came up to her and said in booming voice, “Hello Sister Quinn!” Mom just stared at her and you could see the wheels turning as she tried to figure out who this woman was and how she knew here. Finally after a pregnant pause the woman said, “You don’t know me. I’m from Utah and I saw your nametag.” Mom’s face slowly regained color as she exhaled and remember she was wearing her name on her clothing.

Nothing got spilled on Garrett on this flight.

When we got in to the resort it was beautiful and we wandered around to check out the view of Uluru, and to make our plans for the rest of the afternoon/evening.

I planned some activities for us, and one of them involved disposable cameras I handed out to each member of the family. The objective was to use half the pictures to tell a unique story they would write to go with their photos, and the second half to try and catch the funniest or most creative shot of a person in the family. You can see dad was busily engaged with his disposable camera, while mom followed him around taking shots of him taking pictures, and Garrett shooting mom, shooting dad. Creative family.

Our plan for the night was a camel ride to see the sun set over Uluru. Right before we were going to walk out the door to the camels, Dad suddenly sat on the couch and said, “I’m not going.” Like this was going to be OK with everyone. I was sort of expecting this moment since his last experience on a horse in Costa Rica involved terror (his) and getting bucked off his horse and almost trampled on a cliff. Horses do smell fear and I have never seen anyone so scared of a horse. Needless to say he was relived when that trip ended with no plans for a future horse ride.

Of course, these weren’t horses – they were camels. So what’s the problem? We wheedled, cajoled, threatened and finally mom told him he WAS going and that she had paid $99 for his camel ride. His response? “I’ll pay you back.” A clever response, but it didn’t work out for him – he was forced to come.

You can see the tenseness on his face. And how mom is laughing at his fear.

The camels did make a lot of loud, scary noises as they jumped up with us on board, but turns out it was an easy ride, no one got bucked off and dad admitted it exceeded his expectations.

The sunset was beautiful, but we didn’t really enjoy it for very long and I was anticipating we would see the sun set behind or even near Uluru and the two were not connected at all. It was still fun though and seeing dad on a camel was well-worth the $99 and then some.

One other benefit of the camel trip was meeting Deborah and her son from Chicago. She was a lot of fun, had led an extremely interesting life and ended up going to dinner with us and telling us all about her life story. One of the best parts of traveling is the interesting people you meet and connections you make.

Alice Springs- Day 1

2008-12-21T14:17:00.005-07:00

As much as Garrett and I loved our time in Cairns, we were both pretty excited to finally see mom and dad in Alice Springs. At the airport we ran in to the Melbourne international team and I stopped to talk to a couple guys who looked American. Turns out one of them went to High School with James Lang who I filmed on the Utah Flash last year. Small basketball world.

Garrett and I got on our flight and as you may have noticed one of the recurring themes of this trip has been, “What’s going to happen to Garrett today?” Sort of like Where’s Waldo, but not as interactive and engaging. Now that I’ve set the stage I may as well tell you, the stewardess spilled some apple juice on Garrett that she was pouring for someone else. I caught it out of the corner of my eye, but couldn’t believe it really happened until I saw the stain on his shorts and heard the attendant say, “I’m sorry.” That’s all, sorry. I mean, I guess there’s not much else you can do in that situation but say you’re sorry, but somehow it just doesn’t seem enough.

Garrett said it was ok, but then we both started laughing hysterically. Both at the fact that another bad thing happened to him, and at the fact that she spilled and just said sorry. I told him he should toss his drink at her as she walked by and when she turned just look really apologetic and say, “Oh, sorry.” What else could he do? Then they could both be sorry together.

The good news is right after we met mom we went to get ice cream and something weird and pink was dripping from an unidentified source in the mall…right on to Garrett’s shorts. And a day later the green box he carried rubbed off all over his white t-shirt. Need I say more? Garrett has resigned himself to the fact that fate is against him. Either his clothes are lost, or pink mystery goop is dripping on them.

It was so great to see mom at that airport and dad a bit later. You forget or get accustomed to being away from them and then on sight remember just how much you missed them. When mom picked us up at the airport it was in classic Delsa fashion. She was waiting with the camera up to take a picture of us, but she got so flustered or excited, she put it down right after she pressed the button and said, "I can't figure this thing out" and then it flashed and took the picture. We suggested a little patience might help the mechanics. But she was already rushing over to hug us, camera forgotten.

We met dad and walked over to a park and sat and chatted or a while before having an early Christmas dinner with all their missionaries in the Alice Springs area.

We also got our first glimpse of some of our other favorite people—the Shumways. My sister in Law’s parents are also serving missions in Alice creating a literacy program for the aboriginals in the outback. It’s doing surprisingly well, and everyone is really excited about it. You can see mom and Linda are carrying on as usual.

Our dinner was at a surprising location for a bunch of missionaries—a smoke-filled casino. Merry Christmas.

The Gift that spoiled Christmas

2008-12-17T14:50:00.003-07:00

Time for a brief break in the Australia Travel log. If you read Kristin's blog, you may have already read this story, but it's a spinster story must, so it has to be posted here as well.

Many of you are familiar with "hockeydad." Before leaving the country I put together a little gift bag for him and asked my sister to deliver it for me as I was rushing out the door. She agreed.

Several days later she cheerfully left to deliver it. As I was boarding my plane from Dunk Island, I got this email from Kristin:

Well, I delivered your present today. He wasn't there, but a blond 30ish woman answered the door. I really hope it wasn't his ex cause that would be awkward. He has a sister though, right? It was probably her. Just in case she was his ex and you're curious, it was a very short exchange.

Is Joe here?
No he's not.
Oh, okay. My sister asked me to drop this off. Can you give it to him for me?
Sure.
Thanks.

All very pleasant.

-Kristin

I happen to know that his sister does not have blonde hair and that his ex does. However I also know that he would never let her in the house with the kids while he was gone so I start to wonder...I shoot him a quick msg and ask if his ex was in the house today by any chance?

Here's his reply:

No, but it is a funny story. Your sis got the wrong house but just happened to go to a neighbor's house whose husband is also named Joe.

The poor lady thought her husband was having an affair and that your gift was from a mistress. She finally figured it out after she got herself off the floor.

At this point it all falls in to place and as the full picture develops, the conversation Kristin had with the blond woman becomes much funnier. Imagine you have a girl on your step with gifts for you husband, saying she is dropping it off for "her sister."

I tell Kristin what happened and get this final email:

So funny. And actually, the first house I went to was the wrong house. It was a black family and I was like, I think I have the wrong house... I'm looking for Joe. He pointed me over to the house I went to. Great directions sis. I feel so bad for that lady!
Kristin

Sort of the opposite of a Christmas miracle. Could be bad directions. Could be a bad direction follower. I say, all's well that ends well and as long as there are no divorces caused by this little mishap, no harm no foul. I do wonder how they figured out it was the wrong Joe, and I also wonder how many men by that name live on one small cul-de-sac!

Diving and bobbing is best in Water

2008-12-17T02:16:00.005-07:00

This morning Garrett and I had our snorkeling adventure out to the Reef. Our fearless captain picked us up on what seemed to a glorified life raft. It was supposed to be just Garrett and I, but Captain Jason had picked up two other stowaways. A semi-crazy gypsy type woman and her 4-year old daughter.

The woman was a delight--obviously from the back country, but so positive and optimistic she was totally fun and hilarious.

The ride out was more like white water rafting as we "jumped" waves and held on for dear life. It was really fun.

We ended up at a couple different remote island coves where we did some snorkeling. The best part was when he gave us our sting ray protective suits and Garrett's literally hung on him. Cap'n Jason said he'd perhaps overestimated Garrett's size and maybe a Medium would do. Garrett stuck with his roomier version. You can see it's quite flattering.

Unfortunately I ended up getting a little seasick and washed myself up on shore after about 15 minutes of snorkeling. It was still a delightful day in beautiful water with great company - and a captain who offered to "massage me" to help with my seasickness. That's a new one. When I turned down the great offer he came over and trickled cold bottled water on my neck. At that point I told him I was much, much better.

Our time on Dunk had ended and Garrett and I made our way back to our little death-trap plane. Seated next to and in front of us was a family of four with a little girl and boy.

After about 20 minutes in to the flight we hit bad weather and our plane started getting tossed around quite a bit. Garrett seemed perfectly comfortable as he slept right through the dips and turns, but the woman in front of us started hyperventilating and crying. Her husband was holding her hand and trying to talk her down. The little boy started crying then too and sucking his thumb and basically they were all in a panic.

I have to admit it was pretty scary, but I was so torn between hilarity and panic watching the family in front of me that I couldn't think too much about my own fear. The woman kept turning to me and asking if I knew when we were landing. I've never seen anyone respond so strongly--she was terrified.

When we finally touched down the pilot said, "Thanks for flying with us, hope you enjoyed the flight." The lady looked at us in shocked disbelief and said, "Did he really just say that???" It was sort of a strange comment to make after all the terror.

One more night in Cairns and then off to see mom and dad in Alice tomorrow. Can't wait for the outback. Garrett has only told me 5 times today that he can't wait to be in Adelaide and done traveling. He's loving it!

Our Troubles at Dunk

2008-12-17T01:55:00.005-07:00

Today I woke up at 4am to being trying to troubleshoot my little internet problem. I had promised my colleagues at Root that I would send them a script for the documentary we are making for Hampton. I spent quite a bit of time writing it on my travels, only to discover that the promised internet at Dunk Island was a bit spotty at best, that there is no wireless and only one computer, and on top of that you can’t download any files to that one computer to send out.

I argued for a long time with the manager about how my file would not corrupt their whole system, and offered her all my credit cards and my brother (it’s not really a safe bet at my age to put my firstborn on the table) if she would let me send this stupid word document. Nothing.

So at 4am Cairns time, Brian, myself and the IT team began trying to solve the problem. We tried printer- no. We tried Bluetooth to Blackberry, no again. Brian called AT &T and got me set up for international on my wireless card, no again. Finally at 6:30am we agreed to wait until the staff was up and see what else I could wrangle.

In the midst of all of this intense frustration I managed to slam my thumb in the sliding glass door of their awesome tech center. It hasn’t stopped throbbing yet and Garrett assures me that the nail will probably fall off. I've noticed he's quite a beacon of optimism.

Meanwhile, Garrett’s luggage saga continues. They finally found his lost bag and promised to send it out to Dunk. 36 hours and several phone calls later it still hasn’t appeared. Last call he was told that it was surely on a water taxi of some unidentifiable service on it’s way here. It was supposed to arrive at 4. It’s 5:30 now. He is not a happy camper in his dirty undies and the same white t-shirt he’s worn for the last 3 days. (Sorry Elizabeth- just chronicling history.)

The important point in all of this is that while the manager here at Dunk Island refused to do ANYTHING to help me in my frantic state except shake her head with a patronizing smile and say “Sorry.” There ARE service oriented people in Australia. One. I continued to beg anyone I saw for wireless service or access to their computer when I finally stumbled back in to the reception and found someone new at the desk. A lovely girl named Peta who went way out of her way to help me find a solution and finally when all else failed went and retrieved her laptop on her lunch break and let me send it from her computer at the end of her shift. I could have kissed her.

On top of that, Garrett and I have also had the bad luck of not being able to get on to the snorkeling/diving trip to the Reef (the whole reason we’re here) because it is too full. We begged the activities people to ask the other guests who were here for longer (we leave tomorrow) to trade their spot with us since we only had one day to do it. No. They acted like they would try and then said, “Oh, sorry, can’t find them.”

Peta heard our story and (again) went out of her way to try and re-arrange everything including our flight and when all that failed called someone off the island/resort who agreed to come out and pick us up in his boat and take just Garrett and I out to the reef tomorrow to snorkel.

After being wowed by Hampton two weeks ago and Hilton a few days ago, I was less than impressed with this shoddy service, but will still leave with a good taste in my mouth thanks to our angel…Peta.

By the way, I do realize the irony of me being upset about my inability to have full technology access on a vacation to a desert island where I should be enjoying the “escape.”

On a positive note, Garrett and I did have some very enjoyable moments today. After our rocky start battling the powers that be, we started our day with some stress-relieving pilates. Garrett was worried he would be the only guy, but he wasn’t - there was one other. We were a group of 7 people laying on mats on a tennis court surrounded by dead (and live) cockroaches. “Just a part of the island folks!” It was actually quite relaxing, although not very strenuous. I kept one eye peeled for the roaches though—no worries mate!

Dunk Island

2008-12-16T23:43:00.005-07:00

After a series of mishaps, Garrett and I finally landed on Dunk Island. A couple of these mishaps include Garrett losing his passport right before customs and us nearly missing our puddle jumper to the island because our flight was delayed.

The puddle jumper was another first—I’ve never flown in a plane that tiny (see how well Garrett fits) or been flown by someone who looks like he just graduated from high school. They start the trip by showing you a life vest that inflates and making sure you know how to use it. Not “in case of emergency landing”, just “You should know how to use this.” Confidently, I stepped on to this rickety old thing.

We did make it safely and landed on a little slice of paradise. It was approximately a thousand degrees with 500% humidity, so you can imagine how hot that was. Garrett will explain here:

Unfortunately the water in the pool had also been nicely heated by the sun, so it was lukewarm and we were supposed to only enter the ocean at our own risk of jellyfish bites. Regardless, it was lovely and who can complain about being in the middle of such a beautiful slice of the earth? Garrett keeps saying he feels like we are in the middle of the lost and the island does feel like that or Robinson Caruso.

At the end of the day we took a stroll on the beach at sunset (quite romantic for a brother and sister) where I snapped some lovely photos and then we headed in to dinner.

Once we were seated, the waitress gave us our menus and Garrett opened his, took a look at words like Vicchyssois salad and said, ‘I have no idea what to do with this.” He has recently informed me that even with his upper middle class upbringing he is actually inherently or genetically blue collar, which certainly accounted for his confusion around the menu options.

We were delighted however to discover that the food was delicious. Before coming I had read on a blog that the food at Dunk Island was terrible and that they only served nasty fish and chips. We have had other service issues and problems with the resort but I will say all the food we’ve eaten has been quite delicious.

Commando in Sydney

2008-12-14T11:35:00.009-07:00

OH happy day, my darling youngest brother arrived. But not without mishap. Apparently one of his bags got lost, so he spent two hours at the airport waiting for help or for it's arrival to no avail. The bad news--no underwear, the good news -- he was delayed long enough that he got to miss church. I did convince him to wash his underwear in the tub last night for re-use today (thanks mom!) and he is now busily drying them in the bathroom with a hair dryer. Ah, life in rustic Sydney at a 5 star hotel.

Once Garrett did arrive he was pleasantly surprised by, I quote, "His facebook friend Loren" who again served as tour guide. It was a beautiful, beautiful day and we wandered through Hyde Park, the botanical gardens, and over to the Opera House and Harbour Bridge.

We stopped for lunch at a lovely cafe where we learned that not leaving tips does contribute to worse customer service. We had to ask 4 different waiters for water to drink before it was finally brought, and I believe we could have sat for hours waiting for our check w/o some serious prompting.

We were entertained by the little Yugoslavian GM who kept coming to our table to chat us up as he busily sat guests and taught us how to be effective sales people. All while kicking poor little seagulls to get them out of his area. He told us one particularly disturbing story of abuse to a seagull by one of his waiters, and how he had to hide it from his customers by pushing it in to the ocean. His quote, "I don't know what ever happened to it." Hello? It died. Odd.

Later Garrett and I stopped at the QVB and some shops across the street to see if we could find him more underwear (in case his never arrive) but he said he would rather go commando than buy some that weren't Fruit of the loom boxer briefs. And I assure you, none of the stories carried what he wanted. Although there was a lovely selection.

Garrett and I were happy to stay at the lovely Hilton (thank you points, thank you Gina) where they have a "magic" button on the phone. You press it and they bring you whatever you want. So last night they brought us the sweet DVD point break which Garrett and I enjoyed while eating our toasted ham and cheese sandwiches and wedges. Also provided by "magic."

We turned in around 8. There was a moment of discord in our joy when Garrett went to the bathroom at around 1am and turned on the lights. I screamed at him and he said, "How am I supposed to pee without light???" In the morning we laughed about it together, although I gently suggested he try sitting next time. I mean waking up in the middle of the night when you're jet-lagged makes it a challenge to go back to sleep. But bottom line, I do want him to hit the toilet.

We woke at 5am and it's time for me to end this post since Garrett is just wrapping up his morning bath. 2 more hours and we're off to Cairns and lovely Dunk Island.
Cheers!

The Rocks, The Harbour, and Manly (very) Beach

2008-12-13T12:47:00.004-07:00

Yessterday I was lucky to get in touch with one of Sydney's finest tour guides, Loren Scott. She took pity on a poor, lonely traveler and volunteered to come down to my hotel, pick me up and show me around the city. Isn't she lovely?

The added benefit of this is that I had a real live Aussie accent at my disposal to really start nailing down the finer points of my new accent. Yes, Lisa, I can do this.

First we wandered down to a place called "The Rocks." It's where they used to keep the prisoners/first settlers and they turned all the little cells in to stores and all kinds of vendors set up on the street now as an open market. It was quite cute--and brilliant as we say here.

We grabbed some lunch at some sort of all pancakes all the time place (crepes too) which was quite delish, and then went down to the harbor to take a ferry over to Manly Beach where I did some last minute Christmas shopping and saw the second most famous beach in Sydney. One odd phenomenon was the fact that we saw about 100 people wandering around dressed up as Santa. I take back everything I've ever said about people in Australia not celebrating Christmas properly. If this doesn't say Holiday spirit, I don't know what does.

The ferry was nice because you could see the opera house and the bridge from the water view.

The weather had taken a complete 180 turn and was now about 100 degrees and sunny so my backpack was creating major back sweat and, well, my ferry ticket in my back jean pocket (I know- gross) was no longer functional when I went to go get on the ferry, and I was forced to ask the operator to let me through, "Because my ticket was too sweaty to work."

I guess the moral is be careful what you wish for when it's raining, but hey, I'll still take the blinding heat and light over the rain.

Garrett should arrive bright eyed and busy tailed in about an hour so I'm anxious to see him and announce that he is about to go to church with Loren. This should go over well! :) Then she's going to tour us around a bit more, but really, how much can he complain that I'm putting a gorgeous, single young lady in his path?

Not-so-ugly Naked Guy

2008-12-12T19:14:00.004-07:00

(no appropriate picture can be shown here.)

Remember Ugly Naked Guy from the TV show Friends? He lived in the building across from Rachel and Monica and used to keep his shades open and run around naked in his apartment grossing out (and intriguing) the friends?

I had an Ugly Naked Guy experience this morning. Only not really ugly so much as just naked. guy. I was talking on the phone to BD about a project and was standing on my patio looking at the building across the street. It was maybe 50, 100 feet away--I'm not good with measurements, but the point is it was close. The building is called Harbour Court, so I thought it was a court of law. Imagine my shock when I see in the window directly across from me two round, white buttocks.

For some reason, the guy across the way was naked and standing naked in front of his window. FOR A LONG TIME. Shaking his bootie. I have to admit, I was a bit mesmerized and stood there waiting to see if he would get embarrassed and walk away. Finally, mostly because BD was shaming me, I walked away.

It was quite a way to start the day. Beautiful sunrise and a full moon all in the space of a couple hours. Oh, turns out that Court is just a name they use on buildings around here. I saw a bunch more driving around town. Nothing law-ish about them at all. But I can tell you harbour court should have been in session for a serious case of indecent exposure.

First Morning

2008-12-12T12:12:00.003-07:00

Jet lag isn't horrible. I'm sleeping at night, just more nursing home hours than young person traveling the world hours. I fell asleep at 7:30pm last night. The good news is that means I woke up at 3:30 am, giving me enough time to be out on the beach for a 5:30am sunrise.

It's a nice idea that in December I can walk across the street at 5:30 in the morning and be warm watching the sun rise. Here are some pics.

My Hotel:

On the agenda today? Open air markets, Christmas shopping and if it gets sunny, the beach!

G'day Mate

2008-12-12T01:04:00.002-07:00

At 7:30am this morning I touched down in Sydney. Bless. Truth be told the journey around the world was worth it as soon as I got to the customs desk and the young man held out his hand for my passport and said, "G'day."

I looked back at him, smiled, and said, "G'day Mate."

He didn't look up from my passport and replied, "You're not from around here are you?"

I couldn't believe he figured it out. I mean I thought it came across quite naturally. Clearly my US passport was the giveaway.

So the good news is, I'm in OZ, the bad news is, it's raining. It NEVER rains here. No beach for me as I gaze out my window at Bondi Beach right across the street. No worries though, as they say here, I just took advantage of the rain with a much needed workout and a visit to the spa where the lovely Thai lady got rid of 35 hours of cramped seating, 3 months of stressful work, and put me in a hot tub with a view of the beach. I feel much better.

And here's my other keen observation so far. Australian accents are all it takes to be hot. I have run in to various hotel employees that I'm quite certain I would not find remotely attractive in my home country, but as soon as they open their mouths and G'day me--the gigs up. Talk about your rugged hotness, I'll put some shrimp on the barbie for these fellas and I don't even like seafood. So to speak.

I plan to master an Australian accent before I return so that I can completely dominate the male population going forward. Forget "The Rules" "He's just not that in to you" and "The Secret." I've got yer best-seller dating secret. Learn how to say G'day, no worries and n'oi and you're in like flynn.

Cheerio. Time to crash - jet lag isn't horrible, but it's 7pm and I'm tired. G'night.

So sleepy

2008-12-11T02:07:00.002-07:00

Just a quick update (cause I have 3 hours to kill) on my travel adventure. I just landed in Seoul, Korea after, oh, about 22 hours of travel time. Soon I look forward to boarding another flight to Sydney for another 10 hours. Hardly daunting at all. I've been trying not to sleep so that I can get over the whole jet lag thing real quick-like. I'm excited cause I get to sleep on this flight since it will be night time in Sydney. I'll let you know how this awesome plan works.

Nothing too exciting to report yet. Mostly I just noticed how silently people travel. No one spoke to each other in the business class cabin the whole flight, and then as we all crowded in to the airport and moved en masse to the terminal I noticed again how silent it was. You would think someone in this huge group of people might say something. I had an impulse to just burst in to a loud Christmas Carol or shout, "G'day mate!" and see what kind of reaction I got, but decided to hold out for Australia where such behavior might make more sense.

So that's it...slowly progressing toward the other side of the world...

Hotness as a noun

2008-12-07T20:49:00.003-07:00

Every time I go on facebook or some other online site there is inevitably an ad similar to this one.

Two things:

1. Is this header really hysterical or am I? How would you like to have your picture posted with the header, "Rugged, blue eyed hotness?" Is he on a menu somewhere, cause I'll take two.

2. Do people really bite on this? Cause I assure you, I've done online dating sites and if Mr. Rugged Blue-eyed hotness is on there, I somehow missed him.

Santa is OLD

2008-12-07T08:30:00.004-07:00

Driving home from the mall yesterday, my niece Keely started talking about Santa and how "really, really, I can't even tell you how old" he was. I wondered what her perception of old was, so I turned to her and said, "Well how old do you think Santa is Keely?"

"Probably about 28."

I never thought the day would come when I would be older than Santa Clause.

Yikes. I was quick to inform her that her mother was 33, which made her a LOT older than Santa. She seemed a little stunned by the information and then said, "Well, he might be 99."

Lucky Number 4

2008-12-07T08:19:00.002-07:00

When I was little, my favorite Dr. Seuss book was "Wacky Wednesday." It was entertaining because everything in the book was out of place and backwards and you had to find all the wacky things on each page. It kept you surprised and interested.

Much like Michigan sports this year. In a shocking turn of events, yesterday Michigan basketball beat number 4 ranked Duke, and beat them soundly. It was a close game most of the way, but Michigan mostly owned the lead and by games end had won by around 10 points...not two. Michigan hasn't beat Duke in 11 years.

Last year Michigan beat no winning programs and hardly beat losing programs. In one year Coach Beline has turned around the program and beat two number 4 ranked teams - UCLA and Duke. I'm starting to think 4 is our lucky number. And a ranking I wouldn't mind ending up at come selection Sunday. Coach Beline--let me be the first to extend to you a warm and extended welcome to Ann Arbor. (As did the packed Crisler arena fans when they stormed the court post game.)

(Quick sidebar--he also runs a clean program which is rare. I saw Brian Townsend, a friend of ours who is his assistant coach and he told me a lot of interesting stories about how the program has changed and what kind of work ethic has been installed. Making RIGHT choices can in fact pay is the moral of this story. What does not pay is my current moisturizer. Townsend also mistook me for my mother at first glance.)

Meanwhile, Michigan football has never looked worse. NEVER. It was the most pathetic showing I've ever witnessed. And this my friends is touted as a "Football town." No one cares about the silly basketball program. Check out the facilities and you'll see for yourself.

So that's the good news. Michigan basketball is doing it's best to turn sports around here in to it's own version of Wacky Wednesday with some exciting games and high hopes for the future. Go blue!

Facebook - Ultimate Connector

2008-12-05T11:02:00.003-07:00

I am simultaneously thrilled and distraught. Oh, and also shocked at the power of facebook.

This past weekend I clicked on to my favorite online social networking site and saw a message in my inbox. "Is this theee Shauri Quinn originally from Ann Arbor, MI? BYU freshman year 19**?" No date needed there. Point is, it was one of my best friends from my freshman year of college. A friend I haven't seen or talked to in over a decade. AND HE FOUND ME ON FACEBOOK.

Sure, all caps seems a bit dramatic, but that's not even the crazy part yet. I was getting ready for a work trip on Monday to Ephrata, PA. If you've heard of it...well, you're from Lancaster county or a geography freak of nature. Turns out, Chris is living in the town right next door to lovely Ephrata.

I don't know--I can't believe fate didn't take a step in to the picture on this one--I mean what are the chances I'm going to this tiny little town, and that the day before I go a long lost friend finds me who happens to live there?? I heart facebook.

Except sometimes I don't. Like when a few days later that ex-boyfriend finds you. You know the one. The one that your family likes only slightly better than Jeffrey Dahmer, and that you became that person you wish you hadn't to be with this guy. There is nothing like opening up your mail and seeing his face stare back at you with a semi-creepy message attached. And let me add this tidbit--he spelled my name wrong. If you date someone for two years and you search for them on facebook, don't you think you should at least know how to spell their name?

So I'm left with the dilemma...to respond or ignore? That is the question.

The distress of this minor dilemma however, does little to mar my joy at finding Chris and Dave Baird...two of my favorite people in the world and to see what path their lives took and to relive awesome past memories like Chris' foot fetish. "Nothing like toe cleavage." Odd? Clearly. But still endearing.

I am grateful for a trip to Ephrata at just the right time and the power of facebook to connect us.

The True Spirit of Christmas

2008-11-28T10:09:00.000-07:00

(sassy, no?)

I've been so busy I haven't posted a story from 3 weeks ago that must be told. Let's begin with my evening with the Magentas.

Some context: Gary is my co-worker, Angela is his wife. I agreed to take family photos for them for their Christmas card. When said photos were done, I also agreed to help them design a Christmas card around the photo. They took me out to dinner, by way of bribery, and then the plan was to go to Kinko's to do the card.

That's the background. The event started out nice enough. We decided to go to La Shish for Fatoush salads. When we arrived it was pretty busy and I can assure you now that the Quinn's are not the only people who get a little testy when hungry. I know right now most of you think I'm talking about Gary - not so much.

After waiting about 15 minutes Angela started to notice that people who came in after us were being seated. She sent Gary to the hostess to find out what the problem was. Gary sheepishly went up (I know, hard to imagine)asked about it, was told that the hostess had forgotten us and we would be next.

Angela was on FIRE. Forgotten? And not even an apology? It gets worse. She saw them seating some other people who came in after us - a party of two. Gary assured her that they probably went ahead of us because we needed a bigger table for 3. She made him follow them (yes follow them) and see if they really were seated at a table for two. Bad news - they were not.

Needless to say, the rage continued to build and Gary was sent to the hostess a couple more times. Angela was ready to leave, but one last time she marched up to the hostess with daggers in her eyes and in all of her straight out of New Jersey glory. Luckily for the hostess, our buzzer went off right at that moment.

I thought it was over at that point and that we would just enjoy our meal, but I was wrong. Her anger was still white hot and was laced through the conversation during the meal. Angela was ready to throw down with the hostess, and frankly I'm surprised she didn't. I think my favorite moment was when Gary (in his new and surprising role as the calm, rational human) told Angela that sometimes you just have to meet people where they're at. Her retort? "I'll meet her where she's at! In the parking lot! Right after dinner!"

I liked this new twist on the Magenta personalities, but as an additional word of warning, do NOT ever give Angela lukewarm coffee either. When we went through the Starbucks drive-through after dinner, you should have seen how timidly Gary handed her the coffee cup when he felt that it wasn't that warm. He stammered, "Um..I'm..not sure..this is very..hot.." Did it go back? Oh yes, yes it did. Thankfully, the Starbucks girl was not offered the chance to meet outside for a parking lot brawl.

On to the Christmas cards and the true spirit of the holiday. For obvious reasons they chose the "Happy Holidays" message over "Peace on earth, good will to men."

I learned tonight that people are a lot like dogs. It's the little ones who nip at your heels that can be the most ferocious. It's not the size of the dog in the fight...

Beating the Economy Odds

2008-11-23T07:02:00.005-07:00

The economy is in an ugly downward spiral, people are losing jobs all over and stuck in their houses, or in some cases facing foreclosure. In fact, my sister told me the other day that she has a friend in Utah who lives on a street where people are keeping their lights off all the time so the banks think they aren't home. I find this shocking. And everyone has some sort of crazy or sad story right now.

So in the midst of all this mess, I saw a post on a real estate blog yesterday that was a truly innovative approach to dealing with the market. Leslie Pandey wrote the article I'm pulling this story from and it's called...bum, bum, bum.."Michigan Woman to Raffle off Condo."

Apparently Angela Schaab in Grand Rapids, MI is raffling off her 750-square-foot Condo. She plans to sell 2,500 tickets at $100 each. She'll pick a lucky winner in a live raffle and the winner gets the home "free and clear." On top of that she is donating 10 percent of the proceeds to Habitat for Humanity.

This is pretty brilliant, is it not? She gets $250,000 bucks for her condo and the owner pays $100.00. Those who lost took a calculated risk and only lost 100 bucks.

There is a catch. Apparently this could be illegal since some states consider a raffle to be gambling. I scrolled down to the comments on this blog and discovered that not only is this woman not the first person to think of this option, but other people have come up with creative ways around the legality.

One came up with a contest that he touts as, "fair, fun and quick." And presumably legal. It is found on The PerfectPlaceContest.com. It turns a game of chance into a loosely termed game of skill. It's a word jumble type game and the highest score wins.

Here's how it works:
To enter, players visit http://www.PerfectPlaceContest.com, choose the property they want to win and pay the corresponding entrée fee which ranges from $50 to $200, depending on the property. Players will have the opportunity to try a few practice games before playing. The goal is to unscramble the letters as quickly as possible to form a specific word. Immediately following play, the home-seekers’ scores and the highest score will be displayed, allowing contestants to keep track of their placement. At the end of 30 days, the player who unscrambled the word correctly the fastest will be declared the winner of the property. Players may enter as often as they wish but must pay separate entrees fees for each game, and players must be 18 years old or older.

Intrigued? You can contact Donna Kalman at (954)255-6987 or www.perfectplacecontest.com.

I have no idea if this is really legal or not, but it is truly innovative, amusing, and a way to beat the slump! If only our nation's leaders could think as creatively to come up with better bailout plans and solutions to the crisis.

Twilight...at last

2008-11-22T07:47:00.005-07:00

I realize that I should probably be embarrassed to admit this, but I'm not. I saw Twilight last night with my sister. And let me tell you two important facts:

1. It was good. Much better than I anticipated, and to me - better than the books. Why? I liked some of the characters they cast better (like Charlie) than the way they were painted in the book AND they took 400 pages of content and were forced to shorten it to a 2 hr movie which considerably helped the story. As the credits rolled on the screen Kristin turned to me quickly, and un-asked, in a tone that evoked a feeling confessional guilt said, "I loved it."

2. If you have any inclination at all to see it---see it SOON. Why? Because the theaters are full if you go when it first comes out. The full part is not the secret to Twilight nirvana - it's who the theater is full of: teenage girls. I have never, ever been so amused by an audience in my life. When the movie began and Edward walked on to the screen a scream and a group sigh pierced the air with more pre and barely-hormonal angst than I'm sure was ever heard at an Elvis or Beatles concert. "I LOVE YOU EDWARD!!" The reactions, the sighs, the giggles and screams added more to this experience than I can possibly communicate here. Please. Get up, walk to the door...go now. Before all the biggest twilight fans have seen it.

Those are the important facts. Here are a few more minor, but noteworthy tidbits:

- The guy sitting next to Kristin was as amused by every reaction as we were and kept looking at us each time it happened. At one point there was a somewhat gruesome moment and Kristin screamed--yes, she did. She turned to look at the guy next to her and he was looking at her laughing. She said at first she felt like they were sharing an inside moment, and then she thought, "why is this guy still looking at me?"

- Edward has hair on his arms and chest. If he is supposed to be like polished marble...well, get out the soap and razor my friend.

- I totally got on board the Edward train by the end. Going in I was super disappointed by the selection of this character and thought...not hot...not MY Edward. (I realize this sounds a little funny from an old lady about a teenager, but whatever.) By the end Kristin and I both agreed he was perfect. And teenage girl scream-worthy.

- The actors who play Bella's HS friends are fantastic! They capture their roles and play better high school kids than I've seen in any other movie. They're not too young not too old and they are quirky and strange and self-conscious and utterly delightful.

It's not a classic. There is not one deep thought to be had. It even has some ridiculous, I just got pulled from my suspension of disbelief moments, but it is completely entertaining and definitely worth the cost to see the story come to life. Bravo. Go with teen girls.

OH dear..one more note...
I went to the Twilight site last night and found a brilliant idea for all of you haven't gone yet. The twilight party planning checklist. Talk about brilliant marketing. Here's a few things to help you prep before you go with all your best girlfriends:

1. Make your list - include all your twilighter friends AND those you want to convert.

2. Use of our 4 custom twilight evites

3. Purchase ticket through fandango. If you buy online you get a free iTUnes remix!

4. Go to theater as your favorite vampire.

5. Take a my space personality quiz to know which vampire you should go as

6. Practice your OME! (Oh My Edward) Scream.

OK - there are more, but you'll have to go to the site and see for yourself. It's clear to me now that all the girls in my theater did this AND took #6 to heart.

Magenta's Merry Christmas

2008-11-17T20:31:00.003-07:00

I'm dabbling in a new world--Christmas cards.

The Magentas were nice enough to not only let me take their family picture, but also to turn it in to a delightful memory to share with their friends.

Actually there are two in the running. Which do you like better?

I have discovered in working with them that they are tiny but "spirited." Word of warning--do not cross them or give them lukewarm starbucks. More to come on this.